Beyond the Rivers of Jordan: River Crossings
by dunamis
Summary: Harm and Mac struggle to move on, but are drawn into a rabbit hole of immense proportions where they are forced to confront destiny. Each time they think they've figured it out, fate takes a turn, leading them back to the same questions.
1. Prologue

Beyond the Waters of Jordan 

**_By dunamis_**

****

**Author's note:** Why I've chosen the title "Beyond the Waters of Jordan", well…in case you're wondering, it has nothing to do with Jordan Parker, I'm borrowing from the Bible, book of Joshua. I haven't written in a long time, thought it would be easier to get started with something to go on. In the bible, the 'Promised Land" God had given to His people, was located beyond the river Jordan and they had to go through numerous battles to finally take the land for themselves. It was their destiny, but they had to grab on to it.

Hey, will reluctantly confess I'm a sucker for love stories and happy endings, but also for good plot, even those that end with sappy sappy sad endings. Not sure how I'll play this out, have some things in mind, but we'll see how it goes. Ultimately I'm gaming to hopefully do a reasonable piece of work.

Story takes place when? Well, won't give that away for now. It'll figure itself out long the way. Of course it'll probably differ here and there from the current situation of the series. Enjoy. 

**Disclaimer:** All characters are sole property of CBS. Additionals are my own.

PROLOGUE 

JAG Internal Network

Log entry no: 20032138

"Sometimes…choices we make only delay what is inevidable."

User ID: _Unknown_

The Court House

Washington DC

1635 hours ZULU

It was a cool midday. And from the side of her eyes the blurred image of browns and reds and orange seemed to collage in a slow, soft dance outside the window. Her hand lay gently on the wooden arm rests, eyes staring straight ahead. She was not allowing herself to show the slightest hint of fear she felt. It could only threaten to consume her inside, only threaten, nothing more. What was it that she feared?

…_I don't know. I don't._

A thousand thoughts strived to be unleashed in her head at one go, but her resolve bound them outside a glass Jericho she had locked herself in so they could not overpower her. Yet this blackmailed her into a paralysis, the result of this self made prison. She would neither allow herself to acknowledge their existence or power. She prided herself at being a strong girl. Yes, that she was, strong, resilient. Few girls had ever gained the kind of equal standing she had among men. Few. 

_Dammit, Sarah, you're such a contradiction._ And she quelled the familiar ache that came. 

Everything seemed dull and moved that much slower, the chatter of spectators behind, the voices of overrated reporters. They were like a distant rhythm all around. Only the occasional opinion and sharp critique would rise above the stoic drone, but only just barely. They would usually find their targets. Yet surprisingly, it wasn't those directed at her technique or resource that hit home, it was just the passing idle word and uninformed comments that would cut her to the bone. She could feel each like invisible blade, slicing through, but she gave not a twinge or even half of a sigh. The cool numbing was simply allowed to pass right through, and with each blow she felt small bursts of weakness ebb through her loins.

He, well he too remained composed, unmoving, unfeeling. But this one, he prided himself with showmanship. The occasional move of his right hand from the armrest to the top of his knee, then from there he fiddled a little with his left sleeve, to put in place a shirt button that was already in place. He finally settled into a dignified looking position. Legs crossed, shoulders relaxed. Weight leaning more on his left arm, which of course was comfortably settled on the armrest, Right hand was on the hardwood table in front, his fingers rapping lightly once or twice. His gaze finally fell in place ahead, and few if not none would be able to identify the remotely glazed look in his eyes as he allowed himself to focus on the inner turmoil. In a matter of a moment, he heard nothing but the echoes of the camera flashes in the dark black silence, and a part of him felt nauseated. 

_Just like that day_, he remembered. 

He wondered at how his confidence had so quickly left him, and he cursed himself for allowing himself to feel the way he did, confused and tumbling uncontrollably down that non-existent rabbit hole. And he marveled at her steel, at her calm. He didn't look at her, but he could feel her, she was always stronger than she gave herself credit. Unknowingly, his lips curved slightly, sadly. A part of him wanted to grab on, to find his peace in the storm. She had always been his foundation, but now once more…_he didn't know. He didn't._

The movement behind the bench caused both to look up, and in that split second no one saw the identical fear that manifested in both eyes, or the jolt of tension that went through their muscles as they gripped their chairs in anticipation of the call to stand. Even they didn't realize it. They didn't hear the noise around escalate or the jury walking through their rows of chairs. They didn't see the heightened anticipation of all in the room as the judge looked at the small slip of paper or hear the quieting of the crowd as that same small slip was handed back. They did not hear the judge ask them to rise, but they did in despite. Every bang of the hammer resounded through the courtroom and every call of "order" echoed in the walls. The question whispered through their ears, and the verdict in reply, engulfed.

Hers eyes closed first, then his followed not far behind. They could have sworn the whole world heard their hearts whisper the same question, but they couldn't have. The crowd stirred, and the cameras flashed. But they saw nothing. Heard nothing. Except each other.

_How did we get to this point?_

_I don't know_

**********

At the other end of the courtroom, the rest watched in silence as spectators started out the two doors at both ends of the row where they were seated, right at the back, a whole row of about twelve. Reporters crowded the front of the courtroom firing questions all at once, cameras blazing. They said nothing, until the ranking officer amongst them shifted in his seat, placing his headgear where it belonged.

"Shall we?" he asked as he began to stand amidst the delayed movements and staggered replies of agreement from his crew. All were still numb from the proceedings. Then one beside him spoke, causing the rest of them to turn towards the two men,

"Sir…should we..?" and he hesitated for the response from the older. A.J. glanced to the left at the two at the defense table at the other end of the room, and then turned back to the younger with a look of understanding, smiling softly in controlled gratitude. He placed his left hand on the man's shoulder, and squeezed it for a while. He breathed a sigh and turned his gaze toward the nearest door then around at his crew, "Back to work, people. Back to work."

He remained steady and dignified as he started out the door, and the rest sheepishly began to follow. As though he knew each person's position behind his back, he called out to the man who had spoken up, "Come along, Mr. Roberts, come along."

Bud's lips crooked up a little and he followed after. "Yes, Sir." 

_Just like that day…_


	2. Book 1: River Crossings - Chapter 1

Beyond the Rivers of Jordan

Book 1: River Crossings

12 months earlier…

**_Chapter 1 _**

****

JAG Internal Network

Log entry no: 20015577

"See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil equals no evil."

User ID: Mac_S.

Front of the Court House

Washington, DC

1745 Hours ZULU

               "Colonel Mackenzie, do you and Commander Rabb intend to appeal this case?"

"No comment." She felt so weak.

"What do you think of the Chinese official's…"

"No comment," Even a breath seemed tiresome.

"No comment." She repeated again and again.

She could feel him closely behind and she wished that there was someway they didn't have to ride back together. The MPs and Sergeant Rennick were trying their very best to push back the crowd around them to clear a passage down the courthouse steps, but they just weren't doing it fast enough. Mac could feel her frustration building, struggling to keep it in check, but the press continued their interrogation, hands and microphones flailing around, cameras being jabbed into her face with utter disregard. And there was nothing she could do to make them stop.

Then she felt the slight brush of fingertips on her back, just below her shoulder blades. They hardly had half a second of their intended contact, but it was all that they needed. 

" I SAID NO COMMENT! " she snapped, turning to face her trespasser. But instead of coming face to face with the arrogant, loud-mouthed reporter she was expecting, and would of course have easily deflated with a sentence or two, she found herself mere inches from a wide-eyed, slightly gaping Harmon Rabb, who had obviously been unprepared for her reaction, fingers frozen mid air. She couldn't muster a single word.

"…."

So embarrassed by her mistake, for a split second Mac forgot how irritable she felt, and when she sneezed, it made her feel all the more self-conscious as she took the white hanky he subsequently offered. But as quickly as awkwardness came, it left, and her previous disposition returned as she swung around to continue down the courthouse steps and straight into the waiting car. She shifted to allow Harm space to get in as well, quietly whispering a 'thank you' under her breath for the warmth of the car heater…at least one thing was going right in the world today. Glancing up from the side, her gaze met Harm's and she hurriedly looked back down, adjusting her scarf and pulling at the black colored lapels of the heavy trench coat. Harm took notice, but busied himself also, dusting off the bits of leaves that had magnetically attached themselves to the woolen material. He then pulled the car door shut, clearing his throat to make sure he didn't look like he was trying too hard. The sounds of the crowd outside pressed up against the car and made itself starkly apparent, its rise and fall as the door to the driver's seat opened and closed. Cameras flashed again and again as though they could and were wearing down the darkened glass windows, unashamed of trying to violate lines of restriction in their pursuit of the next days' headlines. They remained undaunted and unforgiving, as did the reporters' questions. 

"Mr. Rennick," Harm called, startling Mac.

"Yes, sir?"

They glanced at each other.

"On the double please. I don't care if you have to run every stop sign from here to JAG."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

The Sergeant turned the key, then wound down the windows to speak with one of the MPs on his motorcycle. With a brief exchange of words, the window came back up and he turned onto the main road; the jet-black car riding out in between the two motorcycles. The whole 'entourage' as the Admiral called it, was courtesy of the SecNav. AJ had called in to discuss budget revisions because of the overflowing workload in the JAG office these recent months. They needed to expand their work base and resources, and to do that, they needed more money; money which the budget did not have. After half an hour on the telephone, all the Admiral could scrounge out of the man was his '_pansy circus'. The SecNav said it would be good for the NAVY's public image. And as if that wasn't enough, he added a side suggestion, telling the Admiral to let __the poster boy use it when he handled highly publicized cases. The Admiral was gunning Harm for two weeks after __that one. _

"What are we going to do?" Mac asked without lifting her sights.

Harm stole a glance at her, then replied, "I don't know."

The way back started out smooth. It was quiet.

***********

Underground Detention Facility

Unknown location. Washington, DC

               The cell was still pretty new. It had white walls and no windows to look out of except the small slip of glass on the door. The whole underground facility was built only recently by the Agency to facilitate secure movement of important individuals awaiting trial, to and fro between their detention cells to the DC Court House. Only those with important political bearing were kept here, not even the most notorious domestic serial murderers or drug lords could find their place here. There was small bathroom on one side of the wall, with a shower, bowl and sink and all necessary enmities. Right in the middle was a hollow steel block with two smaller blocks on either side. It would seat four persons comfortably. Close by, adjacent to the bed were a few long planks of plastic, protruding from the wall, each laid horizontally a foot or so apart, holding a few stacks of neatly folded standard issues. Beside those were some knobs of which only two were taken up by pre-ironed uniforms on hangers. The bed itself was an immovable hollow steel box as well, flushed against the back wall. The mattress, pillows and blanket were all covered with clean white sheets.

               She was lying on the bed, hands behind supporting her head, one leg draped over the side planted on the ground. The Television set mounted on one of the top corners of the room was set on the news channel, but she was scarcely paying attention to it, like she was lost in thought. She did however spring to her feet when she heard the soft beep of the security system being unlocked and the steel door gliding open. She snapped to attention and saluted the woman who had just entered the room, greeting her.

               "At ease, Major,"

She was wearing full black. Combat pants and boots with a black tank top. There was a strip of barcode tattooed along her left forearm. _Not permanent I hope, Bobbi mused to herself. The congresswoman scanned the room from the left to the right, ending at the Television set hung up at the corner to her left. Then her eye caught sight of the remote lying entangled in the sheets behind, and she raised a brow._

"Well! They certainly don't make 'em like they used to, eh Major?"

***********

AJ's Office

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

"The new batch of case files for you to disseminate at tomorrows' meeting, sir…" Harriet informed as she came round the table. She separated the folders into four stacks in front of him explaining, "I er…took the liberty of sorting them out for you as best I could, sir…cases that are…of international concerns, I marked them as well, the ones with the sticky tape are really important, the rest are…you know, sir. …this stack is serious domestic, this one's more trivial, fratenization…etc. Last stack, sir, are the case files that administration could not classify under the 'five specific categories' you listed, …so they thought it best just to send them to you to make sure…"

AJ's lips curved a little, looking at Harriet from behind his glasses, "You sorted, Lt…"

"Y-yes, sir..?"

"Hmm…" she never ceased to amaze him, he mused to himself then returned to a more serious demeanor to get down to work.

"…So, this stack over here…" he said staring at the last stack, "Not under my '_five __categories', huh?"_

"No, sir…frankly I think they're not worth looking at…erm, _if you want my opinion, sir."_

AJ hardly paused before telling her, "Lose them, Harriet."

His subtle indication of trust made her smile and she quickly grabbed the stack from his table, "Yes, sir….and oh, sir, this is your schedule for the week. I've gotten Tiner to confirm all the appointments for the next two days…one or two on Friday are still pending," Harriet handed him the black organizer then continued, "And I printed out a sheet so you can just put it on the side for easy reference….and er, more papers for you to sign…" 

Harriet laid the sheets down in front of him one by one for a brief glance before he put his name down. As they did this AJ continued, 

"Could you remind Sgt. Higgins that I'd like the breakdown of the expenses on the Canton investigation, and tell Tiner on your way out, to send Harm and Mac in once they get back…and oh! Lt., have you managed to rectify that little problem we had the other day?"

AJ smiled a little to himself as he recalled the two memos he had gotten Tiner to draft on his behalf to the staff. Things had been busy, so he had assumed Tiner would be able to handle the task adequately. He didn't bother to check the content before it went out. 

 The first was an OFFICIAL MEMO circulated among all the legal staff. It stated: 

"All members of the legal department of JAG are to note that annual leave taking benefits have been suspended temporarily until further notice. This is to cope with the current influx of demand for legal services.  If anyone is stupid enough to even try his luck at sending in an application, the Admiral will personally see to it that the only leave that brave soul will ever be taking for the rest of his/her military career is compassionate leave to his own funeral."

 And the second, thank goodness, was an OFF THE RECORD MEMO to the legal clerks:

"By order of the Admiral, cases that can be classified under the categories 'TRIVIAL' and 'OF NO DAMN CONSEQUENCE'; or have any relation to a goat, a dog or 'Rudolf the _damn_ Reindeer', are to be automatically denied legal services. No officer who has 'accidentally misplaced' or 'burned' such a file/files will be punished."

Harriet promptly informed him afterward, but by then the whole JAG office was having a field day with it. Tiner had gotten a major shelling from him; his silly antic could have won him blooper of the year!

Harriet knew what he was referring to and smiled, "Yes, sir, I think the operation was a success, Admiral."

A contented look came over AJ's face, but he continued as though unconcerned by Harriet's evaluation of the outcome, "…and the memos, Lt.?"

"Every one accounted for, Admiral. …now well shreded packing material, sir."

            AJ signed his name on the final slip of paper then handed it back to Harriet. 

               "Thank you, Harriet…I don't know what we'd do without you," AJ said gratefully.

"Oh you're welcome, Sir, just let me pass these on and I'll get started on the next lot."

"Lt., leave the rest till tomorrow! Once you're done with these you can have the rest of the night off…you've been pushing long hours this whole month! Go home and spend time with your family! God knows I would if I…" 

AJ stopped short of finishing his sentence, and sighed as he realised it was too late to escape Harriet's notice, "Lt., go home. I think I can manage for one night."

Harriet picked up pretty quick in such situations, women's intuition she and Mac termed it. Mac was much faster at picking up things, but Harriet was better at handling them, especially when it came to the Admiral. She was careful not to make him feel awkward about them being concerned. 

 "Oh don't worry, Admiral. Bud's working late on the Crates court marshal, and AJ's playing by himself in Col. Mackenzie's office... Might as well make full use of the time."

               AJ leaned back muttering, "Alright then, how can you argue with that."

He pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose as Harriet began gathering up the stack he had just finished with to send them down to administration, taking a short breather before he went on with the rest of the load.

               "And Admiral…" Harriet got his attention just as she was about to leave the room. He looked up.

               "Yes?"

               "I'm sure she understands."

               AJ smiled gratefully making sure Harriet registered the unspoken message, then dismissed her to continue with her work, "As you were Lt…."__

_               "Aye, aye, sir."_

***********

SecNav's Car

Harm and Mac had hardly shifted at all since they left the Court house. Part of the reason was fatigue. Both of them didn't and much less could think about what to do with this case and what to tell the Admiral when they got back to the office. The other part, was just not wanting to draw one another's attention in the slightest way.

Adversity always seemed to bring them closer together, but the closer they became, the further they would push each other apart. Though they both wouldn't admit it, a part of them relished the awkward silences, such as they were having right now; It was rare nowadays for them to be found sitting together not doing anything of 'the gravest consequence'. They were either burning themselves in tough cases or burning themselves in tougher cases. With the media imposing on nearly every movement once they stepped out of JAG grounds, the only other refuge was the four walls of their homes. But then there was Mic and Renee to think about, so it wouldn't have been appropriate…not that they had it in mind to hang out together anyway. It wasn't appropriate.

_Mic. _

_Renee._

               Renee's dad had recently passed away, so she was still up at her mom's. Harm called to check two day back on how she was doing and she seemed pretty good. She met his mother some time back, and Frank. It had been her all her idea, it never even crossed his mind with him having so much to think about. They'd been going out for quite a while now; all was well enough. It was the next logical step. Renee had been talking about the possibility of marriage, even counting down the numbers of days left before Mac tied the knot with Bugme, complaining about the 'overtime' called in at the last quarter. But other than that they had no major bumps or hiccups, no problems with the relationship. _And hey! You can never get enough of a good thing, Harm mused sarcastically to himself. He had wanted to talk with her that day, but when news about Renee's dad came suddenly, he had to go away for the funeral. Duty called. He knew Mac was upset, but he was sure it would hold together a few days. When he got back he even took the trouble to get to where she was, but she kept shutting him off. He realised why later…Mic had been around all along. …Mac was probably right. Renee was good for him. __Things are good, no complaints._

_What do you want?_

_I want a lot of things._

Mac, well…her place was with Mic now, as it should be. He had moved in to stay with her when he resigned his commission to come over. The relationship had been going seriously since she went over to visit him in Australia.  He really loved her, and he would make her happy. Mic gave up everything just to be with her! What more could a girl ask? Initially, there was the slight upset when she asked to postpone the wedding, but who could blame him? She didn't know why he had changed his mind. Seeing him leave at the airport, it never occurred to her that they would ever get back together. The only thing on her mind was 'The End', and then there was…the other possibility. But she found him seated against the wall outside her apartment when she returned that same night, his pride so bruised by what she had done that all he offered in explanation was, "I love too much," and that he was willing to give her time to make up her mind. She was soaked to the skin from walking in the rain, too devastated and numb to have much of an opinion. He fussed over her as he usually did, getting her out of the wet clothes and into a hot shower. He made her coffee and tucked her in…even took the initiative to sleep in the guestroom on Chloe's bed. He made her feel all the security she wanted to feel as a woman. Loved. They gradually went back to what had been before…and after coming back from _that assignment, he moved back into her room. __He gave up the NAVY and his country. Things were as they should be._

Do you love him?  
  


_That's not a question you get to ask..._

When Harm finally found out that Mic was back, he backed off for both their sakes. At first they were quarrelling all the time. They couldn't stand to be in the same room for even a while without it turning ugly. The flashes of resentment would just lash out, from Mac especially. But with having to work together all the time, and knowing that they were affecting the people around them, they tried harder. After some time, it was just too tiring to be so angry all the time, so things eventually got better, and better, then cordial. Things were good enough. Things were as they should be.

Do you love him?  
  
****

_Do you love Renée?_

Sometimes they slipped up and into one of those 'I'm-here-for-you' modes…the whole friends deal, but they always pulled up in time, before the yellow light turned anywhere near red. It could be hard to see it coming though, one of those sneaky hallmark moments.

_You have someone who will always love you._

Yet in the past week, it seemed like the whole roller coaster of anger and resentment all over again. And they wondered why now, after months of quiet did they want to once again risk all? Just to know the answer to that one question even though it was an answer of no consequence. They would never, and could never pursue it. It would lead to more pain for them and for the people around them. The wedding itself was in three weeks, and this was coming into play yet another time. The whole thing frustrated them. Of all times it picked to show up…of all times…

"…not now dammit…" 

Mac froze hoping by chance she hadn't done what she was sure enough she had.

"…Mac?" he responded with uneasiness, wondering….

Maybe… 

"Yes…?" she replied feigning ignorance.

_Shit. I said that aloud. What the hell am I doing?_

"Erm…you alright?...I thought you just said something to me…"

"I..er.."

_Stop! … I can't be having this conversation!_

"Nothing! I just…nothing." she finished and looked away. 

There was silence for sometime, each wondering what the other was talking and thinking about, or _if they should be talking. It was a series of back and forth inside, something keeping them from acknowledging the subject matter. Maybe it was part hope that if they danced around the topic instead of acknowledging it somehow it would hurt less. Or maybe it was the fear that the answer wouldn't be what they hoped it was. __I don't know. I don't. But as long as they didn't talk about, they could just pretend it didn't exist…they could choose for it to go away._

"Harm, I…"

"Mac, I..."

Together.

_Shit. _

_Dammit. _

"You first…no, you-"

Silence.

Dread.

Panic.

_I should have shut up._

Each was trembling on the inside, making the silence that passed seem like ages gone by, too afraid that the other would say something and that they'd interrupt. So neither even tried to close the pandora's box that had been opened.

What do you want? 

Harm swallowed, hard.

**********

Alley behind a pub

Near Georgetown

Mic looked at his watch one more time, and sighed, his warm breath quickly condensing into a pale mist. He used his foot to nudge a crumpled tin can around, then decided to leave it alone in favour of listening to the irritating sounds of passing traffic. He didn't hear the other coming. Only felt his breath when it was mere inches from the back of his neck.

               "I reckon you won't be going home tonight."

**********

SecNav's Car

 "Sir, Ma'am," 

They both jumped and looked up at Rennick, guilty faces like two kids that had just been nabbed with their hands in the cookie jar. Mac raised an eyebrow questioningly at the driver, waiting to see what he wanted,

"…Sergeant?"

"Er, Ma'am…we're here?"

The MPs had stopped at the main gate, letting the car proceed through a second gate to the restricted zone. Harm and Mac realized where they were and felt the blood rushing up to color their cheeks. It was in quiet corner of JAG with practically no human traffic even during the day. Nearby was a small side door giving them access to a route which bypassed the front foyer reception to the main JAG buildings' entrance. Rennick picked them up and dropped them off here each day so as to avoid the throngs of media bombarding them for comments. 

_He doesn't know._

Both laughed pretentiously and began getting out of the car, thanking the amused Sergeant. 

_Interuppted._

_Again._

And both wondered if it was a sign; that it wasn't meant to be, that they weren't meant to be. 

The car pulled away, leaving them standing across from one other, with no mediation. But having been caught off guard was more than enough to kick start their rational minds. They could not be having this conversation, and they wouldn't. 

"Mac, about the other nigh-…"

"Harm…" she stopped him, anticipating the words to come, "…you don't have to feel bad about it…I know it was nothing more. I needed someone…and you were there for me. It meant a lot to have you there..."

"As a friend-" Harm finished for her.

"Oh." Mac sounded almost disappointed, but was thankful she didn't give away the fact that she had thought he was going to say otherwise, "Yes! Of course!"

"Yeah…I mean, I just wanted to make sure the air was clean between us you know…" Harm added, "…with…erm…"

"…the Wedding!" They explained together.

"…in three weeks and all. You know…how _it is…" Harm reminding himself more than anything else._

"Yeah. I understand..." _how it was, Mac continued silently to herself, then repeated Harm's words back at him, "Three weeks!"_

For a second they were both silent, eyes glazed, each remembering that night…

_We're getting to good at saying goodbye…_

Unconciously, Mac bit her lower lip, and Harm pressed his together to moisten them. _Goodbye, they both whispered in their hearts before awakening to reality._

"Yeah…I think I'll actually make it this time." Harm joked with her, making her roll her eyes at him, as they both took one or two steps closer toward one another.

"As long as you're not getting in a tomcat…I think there won't be a crash and burn, stickboy!"

"Ouch!" Harm feigned a bullet would at her comment, and they laughed.

"Well…" Mac sighed a little, stepping to closer towards Harm..

"Well…" Harm repeated, both of them still rooted in their positions, "We've come a long way."

"Yeah. Looo-ng way," she agreed.

"And…three weeks! Wow!" Harm nearly choked on the sentence, letting out a heavy breath before continuing, "…three weeks and its Mr and Mrs Bugme! …You do know that's going to be on your door, don't you? …Lt. Col. Sarah Bugme!" he exaggerated.

Mac took a playful swat at him, chiding him, "That is not funny, Harm. Its mean."

"But its true! Think about it, Mac….'Sarah Brumby'?" He drew a rectangle in the air, to help her imagine the metal plate, then another, "…'Sarah Ra-b…"

               Harm stopped and realised the implications of what he had said. It was meant to be a joke, but he had slipped up. Mac started looking a little awkward, so he tried to explain "…I was kidding…I didn't mean for it to come out that way..."

               "I know," she assured him, "...it was just an example…"

               "Just that," he replied, looking down to avoid showing the tinge of sadness he began to feel, but she could tell.

               "Erm…we should probably go in," Mac said, beginning to turn. Then Harm reached out to grabbed her by the elbow.

               "Are you in love, Sarah?" Harm asked suddenly.

               Mac sighed as Harm let go of her, retracing the incomplete turn. 

_That's not a question you get to ask._

She hesitated, unsure as to how she should answer. At the same time, she knew diversion was not the way to go, it would only give cause to reasonable doubt. She pondered for a while, and answered him soberly, "I think I am… …and I think you are too…"

               Harm knew what she was trying to do, so he obliged by not reading further into her answer, giving a sad smile in reply.

_What I want, is never to lose you._

Mac persuaded him, "Think about Renee… …I'll think about Mic."

               _I want you to be happy for me._

               "I'm happy for you, Mac," Harm offered, and she smiled gratefully in return. 

They stood there for a while, as though saying their goodbyes through the quiet. Mac was the first to start walking away, leaving Harm there by himself. But after a few paces, she turned, and smiled to him,

"Come on, flyboy, you're not leaving Robin to face the onslaught alone!"

 Harm smiled and shook his head, tightening his grip on his briefcase and following after her,

               "I wouldn't dream of it…what's Robin without Batman?"

               They both laughed, going through the side door and towards the main JAG office. As they immerged from behind the reception foyer, they could hear the reporters' muffled rousing. Harm and Mac glanced at the rabble many meters away, and snickered between themselves as they turned onto the tiled walkway. _Safe. They masked the tumult of feelings, emotions, questions and desires behind the friendly banter and conversation, and they convinced their hearts that the 'what-ifs' could be locked far away into just another memory. With time they prayed, even distant memories would become forgotten ones, and neither one of them would remember the pain of having walked away yet again, side by side. It was just another day._

The same unmoving stone building.

_Location doesn't change who we are._

  
The same set of arguments.

Most men would disagree with you.

_  
Down the same road they had come so many times together._

_I know. I disagree with myself sometimes too._

And through the same two doors they came each morning.

_  
You just can't let go, can you?_

The same route leading to the same place all over again.

_  
Not yet._

When they came in, it seemed almost like the whole office had deliberately come to a stand still, and they tried even harder to ensure that guilty questions were carefully concealed behind confident poise. Many of the staff may have gone home by now, but nevertheless the silence seemed overwhelmingly louder than the few muffled whispers coming from behind some of the desks, and the muffled whispers, gapingly more apparent than the quiet around.

_They don't know…she assured herself._

_They don't…he affirmed. _

The pace became synchronized, and with each step they were realigning themselves, becoming more and more focused and in sync with the tasks at hand. They reminded themselves, this was the office. It was like the courtroom; it was their arena, the place where they remained victors undefeated and indestructible. Previous matters were now pushed back into the closet where they belonged. In here, things were always same, no surprises, no unwanted tipping of the scales. It was constant and predictable. It was control.

_I see a man who's so afraid of losing control._

_Hey, you lose control in my world and you die._

They slowed only slightly when they went past Bud and Harriet looking up at the Television monitor. "Morning Bud, Harriet…" 

The couple stirred from their focus and greeted them back, grabbing a few files from the desk beside them.

"More news on the incident?" Harm asked after a quick glance of the highlighted text on the screen. 

"Yes, Sir," Bud replied, "…the Marine Major's name was released this afternoon…she's a woman, sir."

"A marine AND a woman…what a disgrace," Mac commented, 

"To you or the corps?" Harm smirked.

Mac threw him a dirty look as she continued, "So is she pleading guilty to the allegations?"

"No Ma'am, and apparently the CO of the camp she had deflected to is willing to vouch for her." Harriet answered as she and Bud caught up with the two, falling in step with the senior attorneys to give them a quick update. Bud beside Harm and Harriet beside Mac. With things being so overloaded, everyone was doubling over for everyone else. Harm and Mac did most of the international cases, but the Admiral had assigned with some of the younger lawyers just to give them pointers with some of the new things they had to handle. Bud was definitely a step up here. He'd proven himself on more than one occasion capable of going on to some tougher challenges. Harm was even second chairing him on a murder case. Both Harm and Mac had agreed with the Admiral that he'd be ready to go on his own after this one. Singer, well, she definitely had a lot to say about everything, she was stuck prosecuting a peeping tom. Harm told her to be grateful it had nothing remotely to do with a goat. Mac told her to be grateful it had nothing to do with a promiscuous dog. Everyone else…they humoured her some of the time. Most times they were just too busy.

"Sir, I've gotten the research materials you wanted for the Aspen case. Gunny did some digging and it turns out…" went Bud.

"…that there were indeed discrepancies in the materials used. Though its not that easy to tell…" went Harriet.

"…Lt. Kratean would still have been able to see clearly even with 45% of the lights blown out, so there was no way he could have missed the…" Bud continued.

"…tapered lines on both ends of the train. He finally admitted that there was simply no excuse for the mishap." Harriet continued.

"So Judge Manik called in to request that you send in your recommendations for sentencing by 0900 tomorrow." Bud finished.

"…he sees no need for a plea bargain with the issue in light of the overwhelming evidence of negligence." Harriet finished.

"Thanks, Harriet." Mac replied.

"Thanks, Bud." Harm replied.

"You're welcome, Ma'am."

"No problem, Sir."

Harm and Mac continued on their path, each briefly flipping the files open with their free hand. They waited until Bud and Harriet were a considerable distance before exchanging them.

"Research," Mac passed over the file she had.

"Wedding," Harm gave her his, "I prefer the pink."

They both smiled at the expected mix up, things as such were so chaotic, what more when it came to Bud and Harriet? They were both fine when it came to work; that in born muddle headed-ness never seemed to get in the way of Bud's performance on cases or Harriet's efficiency in holding the office together. It was when you put them together that things started getting interesting…but in a good way. But Harriet, now if there was anyone in the office worthy of praise during this time it had to be Harriet. Nobody could figure out how she did it, she was practically supporting the workings of the entire JAG office! Even with helping Mac with the wedding! She probably saw the to-be-groom more than she did! The good thing about all this was that the Admiral had started permitting officers to bring in their children after official office hours. There weren't many who needed to, so it wasn't a problem. But little AJ came in nearly every night, so both Harm and Mac got to see their godson often enough. Since the last failed wedding, they never went over to Bud and Harriet's together. So this was a welcome ruling for them. 

"Sir, Ma'am, the Admiral would like to see you in his office…" Tiner caught up with them just as they were approaching the Admiral's office. He was still jittery from the last 'talk' he had with the Admiral, about the memos he sent out.

"Thank you, Tiner." Both answered together, marveling at the new found equilibrium they both felt.

Harm was already knocking on the door when Tiner continued, "Sir, Ma'am, can I take your coats and… -" the petty officer scarcely finished his sentence when the Admiral belted, "Enter!" And both went straight in without responding to the former, quickly sitting down in the cushioned leather chairs; Mac on Harm's right, both still fully clad hat and coat, right hands in pocket and left on their briefcases.

_Robin and Batman, Harm reminded himself._

_Batman and Robin, Mac reminded herself._

"Admiral-" they both started. 

There was a pause.

"You go…" they came one more time.

Then once more, "No, you firs..-" hesitating yet again.

But before they could do another twosome, AJ stopped them short in annoyance, "EXCUSE ME!" causing both of them to redirect their line of sight from one another to him.

 "…Good evening, Colonel, Commander."

The look of confusion at AJ's sarcasm was priceless as they waited on one another to reply. Then it dawned on them…at exactly the same time. They shot straight out of their seats into attention, and yes, still clad in Navy issued trench coats and with Harm's hand still on his briefcase. It took a while for him to figure why the Admiral didn't greet them back, and was instead leaning forward over his table, staring at him intently. Three pairs of eyes pivoted simultaneously toward Harm's left hand, and the sound of a heavy briefcase dropping to the carpeted floor could be heard. Only then, the long awaited words, 

"Good Evening."

AJ gave them permission to be seated, and started to get himself comfortable. They didn't let him get comfortable enough though…

Through and above the bullpen, the JAG's voice could be heard. 

"DON'T START!"

**************

Mikey's Station

Near Georgetown

               All eyes feel upon the two men as they tumbled into the bar laughing heartily, arms drapped securely over each other's shoulder. Anyone could tell they were close.

"Sorry to disappoint, mate," Mic said as he pulled himself onto the seat, "but I've got better things to do than spend the night with the likes of you."

The other pulled himself up next to him. He was well built. Stout. Gruff-looking. He had a palm sized tatoo on his forearm; an Autralian Navy crest with an amoured fist in its center. Below it was a ribbon which read: Specialized Infantry Unit. 23rd Batalion.

               "Now, now, is that any way to talk to the man who saved your life?" he objected.

               "Well its better than sneaking around behind my arss…" Mic refuted, giving him a hard slap on the back.

               "Mikey!" Mic called to the man behind the bar.

               "The usual, Mic?" Mikey replied as he put down the glass he was cleaning.

               "Of course…but two for a start, mate, right here's the man who saved my life…" Mic added, briefly squeezing the other's shoulder as he spoke.

"Ah…It's been a long time…" Mic's friend remarked as four bottles were placed in front of them.

               Mic smiled back, "Yes it has, old bloke, yes it has…"

               Each took hold of an open bottle, then tapping them together, took a long drink.

"So how bout it then? Two weeks. Tops!"

               "Can't mate, I told 'ya, I'm getting' married that weekend," Mic replied and took another swig of his beer.

               The man continued in a highly animated fashion, causing Mic to laugh harder as he went along, "So we'll put off the helio a couple hours! You can come straight after! She's a marine ain't she? Bring the woman along! I'm sure the crew won't mind a bit! …If you know what I mean. You could kill two birds with a stone, give her the honeymoon of her dreams, and help your mates along in the process!"

               Mic laughed so hard he nearly choked as he answered, "Some other time, Casser, some other time…"

               "Aw, come on, Mic! It's a marine's paradise!" the man persisted, finishing of the beer in his hand.

Mic placed a good wallop on the other's shoulder, and called out to the bartender, "Hey, Mikey! Think you'd better bring another one for my friend here!"

The man named Casser added, "Make it two, mate!" then turned back to Mic more seriously, "Well now, we always though you'd be the first, but to give up downunder to move here, now that Sarah's got to be some girl, eh?"

Mic just went on smiling as he drank his beer, and Casser asked, "She worth it, Mic?"

Mic tipped the top of the bottle lightly against Casser's, replying, "Oh she's worth it, Casser, she's definitely worth it," then gulped down another mouthful of the bottled brew.

***********

JAG Headquaters

Falls Church, VA

               "Admiral, there's a chance we could still prove his innocence…" 

            "With what? …pass me the stamp…The goat's infallible testimony??"

               "No comments on that one, sir," Mac replied.

               "Oh I've noticed that's very much all you've said, Col.!" AJ commented sarcastically.

               "But Admiral…" Harm interrupted..

               "No buts! Rabb!" AJ shot him down as Harriet continued passing him the forms, "The fact is we can't afford to keep up on this case! …Thank you, Harriet….We can't even afford time for an appeal much less ask for a brand new trial!….here? okay….Our staff are pushing over time on _last months' cases! And the… - Harriet, what's this?…"_

               "…This months' expenses, Admiral?"

               "I KNOW its this months' expenses! Is it correct??"

               "Y-yes, sir…I checked it myself, sir."

               AJ stared wided-eyed at the slip of paper and then back at Harriet and back at the paper. Then he looked at Harm and continued yelling,

               "And we definitely can't do it on the damn budget!" he bellowed signing the form.

               "…Don't look at us, sir…" Harm shrugged, "we're using the SecNav's car…" This earned him a solid frown from Mac. _Trust him to crack one now._

               "Oh don't get cocky with me, Rabb! I'll…"

               "Sir!" Mac interjected, "What the Commander means to say is we feel the Corpral Hazard doesn't deserve the punishment he was given…anyone can tell it was the wrong sentence…" 

               AJ's frown grew as he continued the discussion, "Col, you and I both know it would be close to impossible to pull this one off. Those damn fools up in Washington would never allow their interests to be compromised…even at the expense of that young man! It's a small price to pay their 'greater good'! 

               "But Admiral, surely there's something that can be done?"

"You don't have to like it, Mac, God knows I don't. But that's the way it is. …here? Right…"

               AJ traced his signature onto the paper then passed it back; sighed and then continued, "Mac, you can't win 'em all, not at these odds at least. Sometimes you just have to make the choice and move on."

               He noticed the two across him steal glances at one another, but he picked up his pen to continue signing the papers as though he hadn't.

               "Besides, as I recall, don't you have a wedding to plan?"

 With the present wave of unrest, the JAG office had been thrown into a state of 'twenty-four seven' having to deal with self serving politians and their supposed feverent pursuits of justice. Big cases took up more time, more manpower and more money. Budgets had to be continually trimmed and revised so they could afford to cover everything. Employees had to be stretched at the expense of their families; he had started granting special permission for some to bring in their kids after office hours. Most of the time, AJ wasn't one to let such things go. Passionate. Perfectionist. Harm and Mac reminded him of when he was younger, but experience had taught him how to make the wiser choice. Sometimes you just had to weigh opportunity costs and decide what was for the better. In this case, it was for the better.

"Thanks, Lt." AJ handed the papers back to Harriet.

"Well, sir, Harriet's been lending me a hand with everything, she has such a knack for it too…" Mac replied.

"Oh really?" AJ looked towards Harriet who was turning around with worry on her face.

"Yes, sir. She has this whole theory about planning weddings like a military operation…"

 "Uh huh." AJ glanced at Harriet again.

"…actually, now that I think of it, sir…I think she mentioned that you-"

"…its really nothing, Admiral! …Past experience…glad to help…" Harriet tried to stop Mac, to AJ's relief. He'd been the one to advise Harriet when it had been her and Bud's wedding. Let Harm know something like that and his life would be a living hell.

"Hmm. …why don't you carry on, Lt.?" AJ dismissed Harriet, who nodded nervously and scuttled off. 

"You're welcome, Admiral…sir, ma'am," Harriet said as she took her leave of AJ's office. The two senior attourneys looked slightly baffled at Harriet's answer, and her behavior, but AJ quickly took the chance to change the topic. He noted that Harm had been rather quiet, which was unusual for him.

"So. Anything to add with regards to the case, Commander?"

"No, sir."

"No?"

_Walking away was the right thing to do._

"n-no..sir."

_It wasn't easy._

"Hmm. 'No'…well…this is not one of your underhand tricks now is it, Rabb?"

_I think sometimes that's how you help a person the most._

"Of course not, sir…I just think you're right…about letting this case go. It's the right thing to do."

               AJ was narrowing his eyes trying to analyse Harm, so the latter explained further, "…er like you said, Admiral, it's a no win situation…he would still have been convicted of lesser charges which he _was guilty of…which would have been at most two years difference in his sentencing. …Its five years, Admiral…not a life sentence."_

               _My husband…_

               _Kinda brings it home, huh?_

               Mac shifted in her seat uneasily, so Harm leaned back and looked somewhere else hoping the moment would pass. AJ raised an eyebrow at the scene, pondering. Then decided to finish off the meeting.

"Okay then. If you've nothing to add, Col…"

               "I have none, sir," Mac replied glancing back at Harm again. And she found herself fingering her left hand nervously; at the spot where the ring had once been, wishing that the cold metal, the binding physical reminder could somehow still be there for her to hold on to.

               _I'm marrying the guy…what do you think is between us?_

***********

Mikey's Station

Near Georgetown

               "You're kiddin' me aren't you? The one on the Chinks case?" Casser said, cracking open a peanut.

               "The very same one," Mic replied.

               "You got yourself quite a looker there, old chum!" the other exclaimed popping a nut in.

               Mic was on his third beer, and could feel the alcohol finally taking slight effect on him. It'd be quite a few more bottles before he could get thoroughly drunk though. Yet, he reminded himself that this would be his last, he was driving back, and would get a shelling from Mac if he had too many.

               "I'd be telling you to keep your eyes to yourself, Casser, but then when it comes to you, mate…"

               The two laughed, then Casser commented, "Hah! Mackenzie…who would have thought…and what's the name of that partner of hers? The one that came up to Aussie that time?"

               "Rabb," Mic replied, trying not to show his diminishing smile.

               "Ah! That's right. That's the one…what's the story on those two? Old boyfriend or something?"

               Mic was used to his friend's characteristic bluntness; didn't mind one bit. He did still feel somewhat of a pinch, but reassured himself that Mac was walking down the isle with him, not Harm.

               "Naah…never was. Harm has a girlfriend. He and Sarah have just known each other for a long time."

               _Long time._

               "Mikey! Give me another!"

************

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

               Harm and Mac got out of their seats and came to attention, "Aye, aye, Admiral!" 

Then picking up their things, they proceeded out, Mac a couple of paces ahead. The tension between the two was apparent enough, except to themselves.

"Mac…"

"What!" she whipped around to face him, startling him to a hasty halt.

"…s-sorry. I was lost there for a while," she tried an apology.

Harm studied her intently before he asked…  

**********

Latham's Office

Washington, DC

0134 ZULU

               Bobbi closed her eyes to rest them as she felt for the bunch of keys in her handbag. When she had found them, her eyes sheepishly reopened. She groaned at the burning sensation this produce in her dry and tired eyes…not that keeping them open made much of a difference in the darkness, she had to fumble for the keyhole all the same. _Finally_, she remarked frustratedly when the door clicked open, and she proceeded to grope for the light switch, which didn't take her as long to find.

               "He-llo office!" Bobbi mused sarcastically before she let out a short shout when the lights came on.

               "Hello, congresswoman."


	3. Book1: River Crossings - Chapter 2

Beyond the Rivers of Jordan

Book 1: River Crossings

**_Chapter 2 _**

****

JAG Internal Network

Log entry no: 20016347

"Some decisions aren't meant to be made. They're forbidden."

User ID: Harm

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

"Are you okay with our decision?"

Her eyes darted up at him, trying to hide her panic, "…w-what?"

Harm realized the mistaken interpretation, and quickly explained, "…the case! Not appealing the case!"

"Oh! Yeah…yes! I mean. It was the right call…"

"Its not like a life sentence…" he tried to affirm.

"No," she shook her head, "Its not…" and turned to continue back to her office when she was sure he had nothing else to add. But Harm moved suddenly, catching her by the elbow. He held her eyes with his, looking into them questioningly.

"You're…sure?" he appealed.

She felt scared, small under his gaze. For a moment there was hesitation, then she managed to muster up a response convincingly enough, "Yes, Harm…I'm sure."

Mac pulled free, turning her back towards him.

He watched her walk away.

**********

Latham's Office

Washington, DC

               "…you scared the hell out of me, Webb," Bobbi said as she tossed her things onto the large wooden table and began pulling off her scarf and trench coat.

               "Who on earth comes in to work at this ungodly hour?" she commented, obviously not pleased by the surprise visit, or unwanted intrusion.

               "Apparently you and I," Clayton mused, at which Bobbi shot him a stern glare.

               "This IS _my_ office, Webb," she frowned.

He got out of the chair and began pacing aimlessly around, unconcerned with her remark.. Bobbi looked on annoyed then said, "You know I could have you arrested for trespassing…"

               "You could," he casually replied, completely unaffected.

"Or I could just trash your undercover punk ass right here right now!" she blew off before continuing to unpack her briefcase. Bobbi had gotten used to such behavior from Webb, and he in turn had become accustomed to her harmless threats. They never acknowledged it, but truth was they were allies. Webb had never done anything to damage her, and if slightly not without good reason; and she had never done anything to hinder his work unnecessarily. Unfortunately, up in Washington that was more than enough to consider someone your friend and Bobbi sighed nonchalantly to herself.

               She walked over to her desk, never taking her eyes off the fellow pacing up and down her office.

               _Ally_, she reproved. 

***********

AJ's Office

So far, most of the international cases were being co-handled by Harm and Mac. They were his best after all. At the same time, he worried that it wasn't the best for both of them right now. They seemed to be handling everything well and good; cases were handled exceptionally, Renee and Mic seemed alright with the arrangement, no additional postponements or breakups just yet. Still, he wondered how things had been since Mac returned. 

"More approvals, sir." 

AJ was still deep in thought when Harriet's voice came through the door. He asked her to come in, slipping his glasses back on to see what she had for him. She handed the crisp paper sheets to him one a time, letting him scan through each one briefly.

"…and I've already keyed in an ID for you into the network...here's the password…if you need any help with anything, Caroline will explain it to you…"

AJ pulled of his glasses and squinted at the small scrap of paper.

"Adm_Chegwidden?" he looked back at Harriet curiously, "…not too impersonal?"

"Well, sir…you could go by A.J. or Jethro, but I ran it by Bud…"

"And?"

"He thought it'd be 'cool', sir…"

"Adm_Chegwidden it is!" AJ sighed, then went back to signing the papers, grumbling to himself.

"Harriet…"

               "Yes, sir?"

               "…here? Okay…Harriet, how has Mac been doing?" AJ asked as he continued signing the sheets.

               "...Sir?" Harriet wondered at his question.

               "You know, since the last trip out?" AJ said as he handed the last sheet back to Harriet.

               "Well, sir…" she thought for a moment, then replied, "She did say she was worried about how Commander Brumby would feel about the ring….but last I heard when she explained things he was understanding about it."

               "So she's recovered from the recent ordeal?"

               "…I'm not sure, Admiral…of course she was affected, Mic says she seems better…but then again you know the Col., she never really says much, except to Har…Commander Rabb…and er…that was before…I don't things ever got back the way it was…"

               "Hmm." AJ put his palms together, "Harriet, is there anything I should know about?"

               Harriet hesitated for a little while before answering, "Not that I know…officially, Admiral."

               "Anything I should worry about?"

Harriet paused again before answering, "Permission to speak freely, sir?" 

AJ nodded allowing her to continue, "They've been having problems since Harm's quals…Mac doesn't say much, but it seemed like she was angry... They used to take AJ out…they've stopped altogether…but I suppose with Mic and Renee...it puts extra strain on their relationship."

               "And Indonesia?"

               "Admiral, the moment we received news, Harm was in bad shape…me and Bud sat with him for hours waiting to hear about Mac..."

               Harriet didn't have to say much more. AJ knew enough.

               "That'll be all, Harriet. Thank you."

               AJ turned to resume his work, but stopped again when Harriet turned.

               "Admiral."

               "Yes?"

               "Do you think the wedding…" Harriet didn't finish her question.

               AJ exhaled, then replied, "That's for her to decide."

               They were quiet, both thoughtful as Harriet left the room.

************

Latham's Office

"So?" Webb finally came round to asking, breaking the tense silence.

               "So what?" she replied and continued unpacking, trying to irritate the other back.

               "Bobbi!" he raised his voice.

               "Alright!" she lifted her hands in truce before facing him to get down to business, "I'm not so sure I want to take this one, you and I both know I stand to lose a great deal if it falls through…"

************

Mac's Office

"AJ! Come back here!" Harm shouted.

               Mac's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of commotion coming through the open door from the corridor outside. And before she knew it her small godson clad in flannel _peejays_ came wobbling in as fast he could, his pampers bobbing up and down. Mac laughed at the little one coming towards her, and with one sweep scooped him into her arms.

               "Awnt Sewah!" he giggled, trying to wiggle from her grasp. 

               Mac took a deep breath, "Mmmm…you smell good, sweetheart," and cuddled him tightly, nuzzling behind his ear and earning herself a fair amount of struggle and a hefty serving of his contagious laughter,

               "…nnooo…awnt Sewah!"

               Mac gave him a lingering peck on the forehead, taking in another breath of the fresh scent of baby shampoo. Then she paused to look at him lovingly,

               "Hey you."

               "Hway…" baby AJ managed to mumble back as he quickly became distracted by the square metal on her collar, fiddling with it in his hands.

               "What are you doing up so late?"

               He never failed to make her smile, no matter how sad she felt… his puppy dog eyes that carried within both that happy, mischievous glint and sweet sincere innocence all at once; the long curly lashes and deeply set dimples; his tiny snub nose and his fine brown hair. That small agile frame and fragile little hands…how she longed for that.

               _With your looks and my brains he'll be perfect._

_               And what if she has your looks and my brains?_

               _"That could work too…"_

Mac was startled out of her reverie. For a while she could almost hear him talking to her, then she sure she did. Harm moved away from the door frame he had been leaning on, slightly frantic that he had said that aloud, even if just a whisper and barely audible.

               "I er…didn't want to sabotage the moment," he explained, then began moving towards the two.

               "…he just dropped by to say hello…didn't you, AJ?" she patted his tiny chest.

_I say that contract is null and void._

               AJ continued playing with her badges, taking an exaggerated breath before giving a disheartened sounding, "yweah…"

               When Harm and Mac laughed at his silly and illogical antic, he blushed red and shut his eyes tight, lunging forward to fling his arms round Mac's neck playfully, burying his head into her neck and bursting into giggles all over again.

               _Why? It still has three more years to run._

               Mac felt Harm's gaze grow serious, and when she looked up at him she saw that same longing in his eyes as he placed his hand on AJ's head.

               "We haven't been this way for a long time," he meditated.

               Mac didn't reply and slowly put AJ down. The little one absently thread his tiny hand through hers as he fidgeted on the spot observing the room for something else to play with. Mac set her eyes on him for a while longer and watched Harm affectionately stroke his silken hair back and away from his face.

               "You suppose we'll have one of our own someday?" Harm spoke softly.

               They both didn't react to the implications of the question, but pondered it within the confines their heart, choosing to pretend its reference was to a future with someone else.

               "I hope so," she replied, "…someday."

               They held each other's gaze. No words left to speak. Baby AJ slipped his other hand through Harm's, then yawned sleepily, his eyes becoming a little glazed.

               Mac sighed, with both contentment and sadness, reaching to caress AJ's cheek,

               "Come on sleepy head…what do you say we go find Mr. Snuggles?"

               AJ briefly let go of Harm's hand to rub his tired eyes, nodding, then he moved it back to its former place, holding on tighter to his godparents as he walked in between, following them out the door. 

               _Don't make a promise you can't keep._

***********

Latham's Office

"On the other hand you stand to gain tremendously if it succeeds," Webb reminded her as he fiddled with the bronze paper holder on the desk.

               "IF it succeeds…" she reminded him, taking back the metal disc and slamming it back down onto her table.

               "Hey, big fish mean big risks," he shrugged, "No pay no gain."

               "Oh you're one to talk! I'm the one who'll be taking the fall," she rebutted.

               "There's one condition though…" Clayton added much to Bobbi's annoyance, "…don't involve him."

***********

JAG Headquarters

               She was standing by the window, the lights from outside casting shadows that fell down onto her pale skin in muted patterns. They seemed to twist and move each time a car went by, as though invisible hands were ravaging her. Even with the lights inside turned off he could feel her, and see the reflection of her tear stained face captured in the glass. He wanted to run over, to hold her and to comfort her, but he didn't dare, thinking she may reject his offer. So he remained rooted to where he was, heart reaching out, tracing the shimmering outline of her figure and entwining itself in the whispers of her hair. Wanting to share in beholding the depth of her eyes, to look into the tears that were there…

               _Let me in._

               "Commander? Commander!"

               "…w-what?"

               "Sir, did you hear anything I just said to you?"

               "I'm sorry, run that by me again?"

               "Sir, are you feeling alright? You seemed a little spacey just now."

               "Yeah, I'm fine, Bud, just…"

               "We could do this some other time, sir…the hearing isn't until Monday…"

               Harm stopped twirling the pen he had in between his thumb and index finger, then yanked his feet off the table, replying, "No, Bud, we agreed that we'd get this done by tonight…I'm sorry, I'm probably just a little tired out…why don't we take a break for a while, have some dinner and some coffee then finish up here?"

               "Alright, sir…if you're sure you're up to it."

               "I'm up to it, Bud…just let me get some coffee and I'll see you later."

               "Aye, aye, sir," Bud closed up the file and got up to leave, "You sure you're alright, sir?"

               "Just fine, Lt." Harm replied.

               He watched as Bud closed the door behind him, then leaned back into his chair.

               _I'm waiting._

***********

Latham's Office

"Are you out of your mind?" she shot back, "How am I supposed to go about this without _him_!"

               "Look, I know how this seems…Bobbi," he tried to cut in between her arguments, "Bobbi, listen to me…Bobbi…CONGRESSWOMAN!" he shouted.

               "WHAT??" she shouted back.

               Webb took a deep breath to calm himself, then replied, "Listen to me. The nature of the situation is that his presence may create a whole load of larger problems as we go along…"

               "Like what!" she interrupted defiantly, causing Webb to lose his cool momentarily,

               "What do you think!" he scolded, "argh…" then tried to suppress the frustration again.

***********

Mac's office

Mac had her arms crossed, standing by the window looking out onto the JAG grounds. Remembering. She heard a couple of light raps on her door, ones she recognized easily, and adjusted on the spot to face the door.

               "Ma'am?" Harriet's head popped in.

               "Harriet, its after office hours…" she reminded the blonde headed Lieutenant.

               Harriet pushed the door open further to let herself in, then shut it again quietly.

               "Is he asleep?" Mac enquired.

               "After that run with Harm? Oh yeah. Definitely," the other replied.

At the mention of his name, Harriet saw Mac's face fall.

"Sarah, are you okay?" she asked.

               Mac sighed before replying, "Of course I'm alright, Harriet, why wouldn't I be?" then she turned to face the window once again. It felt too much like _that_ night.

               Harriet took a couple of steps nearer towards her concerned, "Anything I can do?"

               Mac turned around fully to face her, leaning against the windowsill with her arms still crossed. She joked mildly, "Shoot me?"

               "Mac…" Harriet frowned then, walked over to take a hand, "You can talk to me you know?"

               Mac blinked sluggishly, then said, "I know, Harriet…I'm just not sure I should even be thinking about it."

               Harriet opened her mouth intending to refute that statement, but Mac stopped her from finishing, the latter wasn't sure she could keep herself from acknowledging the truth much further.

               "Hey, its okay…I'm just not ready to talk about it that's all."

               The other looked somewhat disappointed by the reply, but decided not to push it further, "You know where to look if you do."

               Mac nodded, giving Harriet's hand a tight squeeze then folding her arms back up.

               "So…did you want something?" she changed the topic.

               "Harm and Bud are taking a break. Bud's gonna drive out for some dinner, just wanted your order," Harriet replied.

               "I'm not that hungry," Mac shook her head, "…how bout just a soda?"

               "Not even a burger?…no?…okay then, "Harriet sighed, "Coke," giving Mac a shrug as she turned to leave.

               "Oh! Harriet, I just remembered…" Mac stopped her, "there _is_ something you could help me with…"

               "Anything, sweetie," Harriet's face brightened immediately.

               "Mic and I made an agreement not to…er…you know," Mac explained slightly embarrassed, "I was wondering if I could crash at your place till the wedding…I won't be in the way…"

               "Of course its fine, dear! I'd have you over anytime…you know that," Harriet replied, "besides, it'll be _cool_," she gushed, "…like a girly slumber party…just you and me!"

               Mac was grinning, then her face fell back into a sudden frown, "Oh no…" she whined.

               "What?" Harriet questioned, taken aback by the sudden reaction.

               "I totally forgot about Clo!…she's coming up on Monday…"

               "Is that all?" the other replied, "That's okay! Then it'll be you, me and Chloe…"

               "I can't do that, Harriet…" Mac argued, "you know that girl can be such a hand full."

               "Nonsense! It's fine, she can have the smaller room downstairs."

               "You sure?"

"Absolutely. So when can I expect you over?"

               "I'll start packing some things tonight…maybe tomorrow or the day after?"

               "Alright, don't bother with too much…we've got towels and what not…" Harriet added, then glanced through the door's glass window, seeing Bud on the other side, "…'kays, Bud's waiting, I'd better get going…"

               "Yeah, I'll see you in a bit…" Mac replied, "Thanks, dear."

               "You're welcome, honey…oh and check on baby AJ will you?"

"Sure…" Mac nodded, then began turning towards the window once more, when she heard Harriet call to her to add,

               "Mac," she said, "…you have a lot of people who care about you."

               The two women shared a warm heartfelt smile, then Harriet closed the door to leave Mac to her thoughts. The latter sighed as she gazed aimlessly into the night, sinking into an invisible sea of questions.

_I need a better reason._

***********

Latham's Office

"Latham…" he continued.

               "Okay okay…I know," she replied, "I can only imagine what lies to be uncovered…but you and I both know that they're a package deal. You buy one you get the other damn one free! And as of yet I don't trust anyone else to be able to pull it off…and you know you don't either."

               "So we'll find someone else to trust! There's always…" Webb tried to suggest.

               Bobbi registered whom he was implying, and remarked, "Is that even possible? Okay…scratch that, you guys can make anything possible. What I don't get is why you won't let me risk it?"

               "Look, even if I agreed, the wedding is coming up, you think either one will agree to it?"

               "Hey, that's for them to decide! And I'm just saying let's try it out and see what happens! Besides, he may not even go with it in the end!" she argued.

Bobbi watched Webb's movements, stubborn disagreement written all over them, so she reminded him, blatantly jabbing at his shoulder,

 "And don't forget! You came to me! Not the other way around!" and then deliberately continued with a stab at his ego, hoping to put the ball in her court, "…To be honest, I'm starting to wonder if the heartless spy is beginning to grow a conscience…"

She succeeded.

               "Alright! Alright!" Webb threw his hands up in surrender.

"You win!" he conceded, at the same time cautioning her, "…Play it how you like, so long as the prime goals are not compromised…"

               "Of course…" she agreed.

               "And you stay within the perimeters which I lay down…"

               "Your show…" she affirmed.

               "And let the congresswoman so note that I have voiced my objection to the intended course of action, and still strongly advise that an alternative solution be found."

               "So noted." Bobbi smiled.

               Webb sighed, then stuck out his right hand, "Congresswoman."

               "Mr. Webb," she acknowledged.

               They shook hands.

               "I think we're in business," Bobbi stated.

               "God help us," he muttered, then re-emphasized, "You do know that I'm going to do my very best to dissuade him…"

               "Oh yes…I completely understand…" she assured him.

               "Just checking…" he concluded weakly.


	4. Book1: River Crossings - Chapter 3

Beyond the Rivers of Jordan

Book 1: River Crossings

**_Chapter 3 _**

****

JAG Internal Network

Log entry no: 20016612

"Some people move on. Others just need a little help."

User ID: Adm_Chegwidden

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

0952 ZULU

               He looked around the office trying to find the place, and felt slightly overwhelmed by the new environment. Whichever way he turned, people were buzzing two and fro between bases, swapping files and exchanging information. They didn't even notice him, the alien standing in their territory. He scanned the room some more, then noticed a tall NAVY officer standing nearby, and decided to try his luck there.             

"Excuse me," he said, "but I was wondering if you could tell me where the conference room is?"

               Harm was sipping his morning coffee when a voice startled him, and he cringed sharply, pulling the porcelain mug from his lips. _Ouch! Dammit. He thought to himself. He hated burning his tongue._

               "I am so sorry," the man offered as Harm twisted his tongue inside his closed mouth, trying to quell the bruising sensation pulsing through it. He began turning towards the fellow who had disturbed him…

               "Sturg?" he looked wide-eyed, for a moment forgetting the pain.

               "Harm?" the other replied, equally shocked.

The two had been buddies at the Academy in Annapolis together…years back. Sturgis' father was a NAVY minister, and had actively served during the Vietnam War, so both had common ground to begin with. Sturgis was like the brother Harm never had, they trained together, picked up girls together, got into trouble together, and got caught together, and got punished together. On days out they even visited one another's' families! Sturgis' dad had been like a Father figure for Harm to relate to, the man never gave Harm any leeway even though he wasn't his real son. Heck, they weren't even the same color and it didn't matter. He remembered after the goat incident, the lashing back at the academy wasn't the only one he got with Sturgis. But after going separate ways and each getting caught up with their own gigs, they gradually lost contact.

               "Hey, I sent you a Christmas card!" Harm defended himself as they entered the conference room.

               "Yeah. Three years ago to the wrong address!" the other replied as they pulled up seats next to each other by the table. They were the first ones in.

               "So, got a girl?" he continued.

               Harm sighed as he replied, "Nope, she's got me."

               "Ha…I guess some things never change…"

               "Hey! I'm just waiting it out that's all…" he defended.

               "Oh yeah…Buddy, the sun could start rising from the west and you still wouldn't get your act together. If she's the one she's the one…why do you keep fighting off what's inevitable? Sooner or later you're going to realize even fates' not gonna wait around for the likes of you…"

               "Hey don't go there, partner…its still a sore spot. And anyway, like Mr. Perfect here has it all figured out! I don't see you spotting a ring! Have _you_ got a girl?"

               "Now you're changing the subject…"

"Oh no you don't…do you?"

"I…_had_ a girl." Sturgis answered with a muted sigh, which made Harm worry he in turn had brought up the wrong topic.

"Hey, Sturg, I didn't mean to…"

"Don't worry bout it, man. I'm over it…" he replied.

"So err… what went wrong?"  

"God called her into celibacy…she became a nun," Sturgis stated, leaving Harm wide-eyed.

"Are you…"

Sturgis laughed then continued, "I'm just yanking your tail, hammer.  No, it was a lot less dramatic than that. I was ready to settle and she wasn't."

"You buy her a ring?" Harm asked.

"Five and half months' salary."

"Oooh…" Harm responded.

Sturgis grinned then continued, "I coaxed her into accepting, withdrew my assignment to JAG HQ…but I guess some things are just inevitable, not matter how you try to make it work."

"So that's how you ended up here…4 months overdue," Harm concluded.

_Inevitable._

"I see you two have met."

               Harm and Sturgis stiffened as AJ walked past them along the opposite length of the conference table.

               "Morning, Admiral!" they said together.

               "Morning." AJ replied as Tiner pulled out his seat for him at the head of the table and he settled in.

               Harm glanced towards the door into the office, trying to see if he could spot Mac. It wasn't like her to be late for a whole hour, especially with there being a staff meeting. Tiner pulled up a chair next to the Admiral, flipping open a notebook while the Admiral sorted out some papers. Seconds later, Sgt. Coultier came in with her notebook, ready to take down the minutes. Not far behind came the other JAG officers, each saying their greetings as they pulled up a seat, automatically by rank and standing. Harm watched them come in one after the other until every seat was filled except the one on the Admiral's left. 

***********

JAG Car park

               "Shit."

               Mac muttered to herself as she screeched into the parking lot. The admiral was going to give her a lashing. She rummaged through the glove compartment, and pulled out some loose powder and lipstick. Then, yanking the rear view mirror towards her, she quickly tried to salvage the situation as best she could. It would have to do, she thought to herself after a few seconds of hurried applications. Swiping her briefcase and files, Mac tumbled out of the car in her trench coat, fumbling for the auto-lock button on her key chain. 

               She cursed and swore to herself even as she ran towards the main entrance, ignoring the junior officers who greeted her as she breezed past.

               _Damn him for being so stupid._

***********

Conference Room 1

               All eyes were on the restless Admiral and the empty seat next to him.

               "Commander Rabb, you wouldn't happen to know where the Colonel has disappeared to would you?" AJ asked impatiently, shuffling about the papers in front of him.

               Harm shifted in his seat replying, "No, Admiral, but I'm sure she has good reason."

               "I'm sure she does," AJ remarked sarcastically.

               "Good morning, Admiral!" 

               Mac's voice came suddenly, and everyone turned their attention to the disorientated looking marine colonel standing by the door, a lieutenant with blond hair nervously pulling at her trench coat and disappearing back out. Sturgis couldn't believe his eyes.

"Harm…am I…"

               "No, you're eyes are just fine," Harm assured him.

               "Uncanny," Sturgis whispered to himself.

               "Col. Mackenzie, nice of you to join us…" AJ pulled back his sleeve to look at the time, but Mac answered for him.

               "Seven minutes late, Admiral…"

               "EIGHT! Thank you very much! What's the matter? That internal clock of yours hit the snooze button this morning?" AJ huffed.

               "I apologise, Admiral…something came up…" Mac answered heading towards her seat.

               Harm and AJ both took glances at Mac as she settled into the chair, hoping that her superior wouldn't pursue the matter. He didn't. She was grateful.

               "Alright people, seeing as we're all finally here, I'd like to introduce a new addition to JAG…Commander Sturgis Turner."

               Sturgis nodded as the rest of the staff clapped, but didn't fail to notice Harm and Mac stealing glances across the table.

"The Commander will be joining us as one of our senior attorneys…" AJ added, then turned to the petty officer on his left,

"Tiner, can you make sure Lt. Simms finds the Commander an office straight after the meeting…"

               "Yes, sir…" Tiner started scribbling.

               "And send out an official memo informing all the staff of his joining…I'm sure you'll handle that _adequately, Tiner?"_

               "Y-yes, sir!" Tiner answered, blushing as stifled giggles could be heard coming from around the table. 

Sturgis wondered what joke was about, though he noticed the admiral didn't twinge in the slightest despite having knowledge of what was going on. He simply carried on with the meeting. But everyone noticed the unusual bubble of tension at the head of the table. The Admiral was watching the three seated nearest to him, while Sturgis was wondering why there seemed to be so much tension in between Harm and Mac.  Harm was wondering what was wrong with Mac, and Mac was trying to figure out which bothered her more, the fact that Harm was sure to ask what had happened last night or that his friend was staring at her like she was his dead girlfriend resurrected to life.

"On to the next order of business…"

AJ went through quite a number of things from budget cuts to dissemination of case files, but he did so in good time, much to Sturgis' admiration. He determined that he was going to enjoy his superior, and for him that was a good start. The newest member took the full half hour to quickly get his bearings on what sort of a crowd he was in, who was who and who was in who's camp…etc. Hopefully he would have enough to make the beginnings a little easier on himself, he thought, but was thankful enough he had at least one man to turn to, and muttered additional thanks to the main man _up there._

               "If no one has anything to add, then you're dismissed." AJ concluded.

               All in the room answered as one, "Aye, Aye, Admiral!" and proceeded out, leaving only AJ with Tiner behind, Harm, Mac and Sturgis.

               "Commander Turner," AJ turned to Sturgis, "Things have been running a little faster than usual lately, but I take it you'll have no problems getting around since you and Harm already know each other…"

               "I think I'll survive day one, Admiral."

               "If you have any problems don't hesitate to _not knock on my door…" AJ joked while keeping a completely straight face, "…if I'm not available you can just refer to Col. Mackenzie here, our chief of staff, but I'm sure you'll fit right at home."_

               "I certainly hope so, sir."

               "Well then, Rabb, introduce the Commander to Harriet and get him settled in. Col., make sure his papers are processed asap…and I'll see you both in my office at 1200 yes?"

               "Yes, sir. " Harm and Mac replied.

               "Alright then. Back to work, people. It's another one of those damn days just like yesterday," AJ grumbled as he marched out, Tiner following closely behind.

               The three started picking up their things, in an atmosphere where the awkwardness and tension was distinctly palatable.

               _You were Diane come back to life. The resemblance was uncanny._

Mac hurriedly finished packing first, and curtly informed Sturgis that Lt. Simms would pass him the necessary forms to fill in before excusing herself as fast she could. Harm did nothing.

               "Wow. Is she always this charming?" Sturgis asked.

               "Only on 'good' days," Harm replied.

               "You don't say…"

               Harm smiled a little then continued, "She's just having rough morning, we've all been under a lot of stress."

               _You're running, Mac, what's going on?_

               "Good morning, Commander Turner…Commander Rabb," Harriet caught them just as they came out the door.

               Harm took the cue and introduced Harriet. He did so with his usual dose of cockiness, which earned him a carefully concealed glare from Harriet, "Sturgis, this is Lt. Harriet Simms, _wife of Lt. Bud Roberts whom you met earlier…Lt. Simms, Commander Sturgis Turner."_

               "Ah, nice to meet you, Lt.," Sturgis stuck out his hand, "so I understand you have a husband named Bud…"

               Harm rolled his eyes at Sturg's obvious attempt to score some points on his first impression, "Careful counsel, you don't want to work your jury too hard."

"If I may say, Commander," Harriet said taking Sturgis' hand, "You're doing just fine."

***********

Mac's Office

Mac slammed the door shut and threw her briefcase onto the table, exhaling hard. 

_Are you in love, Mac? _

I'm marrying the guy, what do you think is between us? 

In that instant, she felt as though a wave of nausea and pain swept through her body and culminated in her head, causing it to pulsate.__

_Sometimes I think it'll last as long as until you decide you want him._

_I'm happy for you…are you happy for you?_

The pit of her stomach felt sour and she could taste it at the back of her throat, making her neck ache. 

_Why are you marrying me, Sarah?_

_Are you in love with him?_

Her vision became clouded with patches of light, her hearing muffled except for the high pitch ring in her inner ear; and she stepped once or twice, unsteadily as the world around rocked from side to side. 

               _I don't know! I don't! Stop asking me!_

                "Mac?" Harm rushed forward, grabbing her with one hand to hold her up. She felt him squeezing her left arm, and when her body went limp suddenly another time, he moved changed hands, swinging the other around her waist to steady her. She clenched her eyes shut, and felt the giddiness start to subside. The pulsating pain gradually turned to a throbbing and she tried to steady her breathing so it would hurt less. Her throat felt dry, but she swallowed nevertheless, in futile attempt to get rid of the acidic taste in her throat.

She felt a little bit of strength return to her limbs and began straightening up slowly.

               "Here…" Harm kept one hand on her arm and used the other to pull the chair over, helping her in, "…sit down."

He disappeared out the door, leaving it ajar; he reappeared moments later with a styrofoam cup filled with hot water.

               "Careful, it's hot…" he said, bending over and bringing the cup towards her lips. He hadn't really been thinking as he did all this, neither had Mac; when the cup was inches away she reached for it and her hand touched his. The contact startled them both, and caused their eyes to lock. Harm held his breath then continued carefully bringing it to her lips. She sipped, looking at him as she did. He swallowed and placed the cup back on the table, squatting down beside her with one arm on the armrest to keep his balance.

               "Are you okay?" he asked, concerned, "What the hell happened?"

               "...er, nothing," she mumbled in reply, frowning as she massaged one side of her head, "I just em…got giddy all of the sudden."

               "Here…let me," he got up, grabbed the sides of the chair and dragged it around to face him all in one swift motion before she had time to respond. Then he reached forward wanting to help her massage her temples, but she hit his hands away, annoyed.

               "Harm! What are you doing?"

               He was shocked and looked almost hurt as he slowly dropped his hands, wondering at her reaction. Their eyes were locked as he analyzed her, his face darkening a little. Harm walked to the door, closing it; then he turned and took one step forward, deliberately keeping some distance.

               "What happened?" he asked, controlling his frustration.

               "I told you-" Mac began.

               "I know you got giddy! You nearly collapsed! I was here! I'm asking you what _really happened!" Harm yelled._

               "I don't know what you're talking about," Mac scowled defiantly.

               "Don't bullshit with me, Mac. What happened this morning? Why were you late?" he demanded.

               Mac still felt somewhat sick, but her anger seemed to take presidency over it and she got out of the chair and walked to her own behind the table.

               "Get out, Harm," she replied with seething control.

               Harm would not budge. Instead, he came close to the other side of the table and said, "Mac, stop running, tell me what's wrong…"

               "YOU ARE!" Mac shouted back.

Harm stopped, and whatever resolution he had to get her to open up turned straight into a motley of devastation.

_You honestly resent me._

               "Please leave," Mac whispered, looking away.

               He did.

***********

               "Tiner, get admin. on the line and check if the benefit revisions are finished."

               "Yes, Admiral."

               Tiner was seated at his desk putting through the call, while AJ stood nearby, going through a file. He looked up for a while to scan through the office briefly to see how work was going, and his sights found Mac's office door open, Harm holding her up and helping her into a chair. AJ quickly removed his reading glasses, and looked on worriedly. She didn't look very well, and he wondered if it had anything to do with her being late this morning. AJ watched as Mac hunched over massaging her temples, and he deliberated whether or not to go over to see if she was alright, but decided to stay put for the time being when he saw Harm hurrying back in with a cup…

               "Admiral, sir," Tiner called, causing AJ to turn back, "…administration says they are ready with the revisions…"

               "Tell them to bring the papers up…meet me at 1400" AJ replied.

               "Yes, sir." 

Tiner returned to the call and began flipping through a file to check for an available venue. AJ's attention was back to the other side of the office where Harm and Mac were. She was sitting in the chair with him standing in front. They held that position for a short while, and then Harm walked towards the door to close it. With not much else to observe but a closed wooden door, AJ thought deeply for a second before Tiner put down the telephone and called to him again.

"Admiral," Tiner waited for him to look his way, then continued, "Conference room 3, 1400 hours, sir."

"Thanks, Tiner," he replied. AJ glanced at the closed door one more time, then walked back into his office.

**********

"There you go, sir…I just need you to fill these in so I can process them," Harriet pulled a coupled of sheets from the plastic drawer and handed them to Sturgis, who began pulling out the chair to sit down, but he stopped midway.

               "Forgive me, Lt., would you like to have a seat?" he asked.

               Harriet was quite taken aback and stammered, "N-no, sir! But thank you! I'm quite alright!" Harriet motioned for him to carry on, blushing slightly. Sturgis was quite puzzled by the reaction.

"Lt., where I come from its 'ladies first'... I assume it's the same here?"

"Of course, sir," Harriet replied, "…its just that you're a superior officer. I'm not used to…"

"Lt., my father taught me to pull up the chair for the neighborhood tomboy!…last I checked, you definitely looked to me a lady." 

"Thank you, sir…" Harriet replied gratefully, "but I really am fine."

"Alright then," Sturgis smiled, sitting down to tackle the forms. Despite the office going about their business, some muffled sounds caught his ear briefly, but he scarcely was distracted.

"Without coming across as inappropriate, sir," Harriet said to him, "I've never met an officer quite like yourself."

               Sturgis laughed as he looked up at Harriet, "I certainly won't sue for harassment, Lt. Simms…" he replied, then was briefly distracted again by muffled sounds coming from behind the door nearby. He noticed that Harriet had looked that way to, but he didn't bother much with it and continued with his forms, and the conversation, "…I'm hoping that's a compliment,"

               "…It is, Commander…" Harriet looked away from the door and trailed back in, "Don't get me wrong, sir, the men here at JAG do treat the opposite sex respectfully and without prejudice, they just sometimes need to be reminded that we are still women."

               "Hence the paradox of equal rights," Sturgis remarked.

               "Yes, sir-"

               Harriet was cut short when the door to Mac's office was swung open suddenly, catching Sturgis' attention as well. They caught only a brief glimpse of Mac standing angrily behind her desk, before an angrier Harm slammed the door shut and marched back to his own office and slammed that door too. He didn't even acknowledge the duo as he went past.

               Sturgis and Harriet shifted awkwardly, the former looking back at the latter questioningly. All Harriet could offer was a shrug and, 

               "Welcome to JAG, Commander?"

***********

Kai's Drive thru

Bethsada, Maryland

               Webb waited for the car in front to move on, then stepped onto the accelerator to pull up next to the open window next to the booth. He wound down the window and took down his sunglasses.

               "One chicken and cheese specialty set, one fried chicken meal, additional side order of fries and a regular coke," the man behind the collection booth rambled out his order.

               Clayton took the two brown paper bags, opening them one after the other to check the contents, then leaving them on the passenger seat he replied, "I also ordered a dozen corn muffins…"

               "Oh they'll be out of the oven in a minute, sir, if you'll just hold on…" the other explained while he shouted to the back of the kitchen, "Jade! Hurry up with those muffins will 'ya?"

               A holler came back from behind and the man continued to Webb, "Coming right up, sir..." the looked out of the window to the side as though he was checking whether there was a queue.

               "So…" he struck up a conversation with Clayton, "how's the set working out for you, mister?"

               Clayton munched on the sandwich and casually replied, "…she'll serve it up in the afternoon, but we'll have to wait to see how the game plays out. She's stubborn about it."     

               "Your prediction of the outcome?" the other muttered squinting a little as the sun shone into his eyes.

               "Can't really tell if he'll bite…not in present light of circumstance anyway. If he does you can be sure he'll wrestle for it, whatever case we have the backup…all scenarios have been catered for."

               "Jade!" he turned around and shouted to the back once more, "Where are those muffins, man!" then disappeared into the back, reappearing with another brown paper bag, "Here you are, sir…that'll be fifteen ninety-nine!"

As Clayton took the bag from him he mumbled under his breath, "You know what to do."

Clayton carried on smoothly like he hadn't heard anything and handed him a twenty-dollar note.

"He'll be there tomorrow night…" he whispered, then turned to make eye contact with the other, "Keep the change."

               The latter looked at him briefly, then replied audibly, "Why thank you very much, sir! Do come again soon!"

               Clayton wound up the window and drove off.

************

Harm's Office

               The wooden door smashed hard into its frame. So hard it vibrated in its place. Any harder and it would have sprung out of the lock of its lock due to the impact. Harm tossed his briefcase over the table and right smack into the seat, but it didn't stay there. Instead, it ricocheted off the chair's back and onto the floor, spewing its contents in utter disarray.

               "Shit!" Harm swore as he drove the palm of his hand into the metal cabinet just beside, causing the unstable stack of files on top to wobble and slide off one another and onto the ground, adding to the mess. Harm's hands balled into trembling fists, and his face turned red with pent up frustration before he jerked his hands in the air and shouted,

               "Dammit!" and he slapped his left hand onto the top of the metal cabinet.

               "Sir, are you alright?" Bud came in, closing the door behind him, "we heard a some noise…from outside…"

               Harm took a few breaths, but scarcely knew what to say or do except glance at Bud awkwardly. Bud took a brief scan of the papers and files strewn on the ground and then at Harm whose back was towards him, concerned.

               "Tell them everything is fine, Bud…I'll er…clean up…" Harm trailed off, waving his hand absently at the mess.

               Bud too a few steps closer and said, "Commander, why don't you take a walk…I'll get gunny to send someone in to get this all cleared up."

               Harm opened his mouth to object, but Bud stopped him, "Take a walk, sir."

               Harm sighed in frustration then agreed.

               "Thanks, Bud."

               "Your welcome, sir." He replied and started out to look for gunny.

************

               As the man went past, stopping to ask a lady officer for directions, the volume of appreciative whispers and the volume of competitive whispers coming from the females and males respectively, rose. He was wearing a brown uniform, shirt and shorts combo. Every time 'one of them' (as the males called them) came, they never failed to bring the whole office to a standstill. He smirked to himself, pleased somewhat at the reaction he could generate amongst the ladies, and equal amount of antagonism he stirred from the males. He could never figure why they were seen as sex symbols, even amongst such a crowd as he was in today. It boosted his ego nevertheless.

               "Petty Officer Jason Tiner?" he enquired of the young man at the desk in front of him.

               "M-me?" Tiner looked up at him in unbelief.

               "DHL express delivery. I need you to sign for it," he explained, handing Tiner the slim white envelope along with the receipt slip.

               When the Petty Officer had initialed on the yellow sheet he tore off the top layer and handed it to him, then preceded back the way he'd come. He was barely out of the door when he heard the other's excited shouts,

               "I got it! I got it!"

               The man smiled to himself in amusement.


	5. Book 1: River Crossings - Chapter 4

Beyond the Rivers of Jordan

Book 1: River Crossings

**_Chapter 4 _**

****

JAG Internal Network

Log entry no: 20016613

"Then again there are those who require intervention of a _divine_ kind."

User ID: Adm_Chegwidden

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

1107 ZULU

               Harm aimlessly followed the stone path, taking in deep numbing breaths of the cold autumn air. He had to admit this dreary weather had its own good effects; his mind felt more invigorated and his anger had more or less subsided to a dull reek. It hurt less, so it supposedly bothered him less. He concentrated on the even rhythm of his steps, trying to find his center once again, but he went past some rose bushes along the side of the building, and as he did, memories of the day they had met came back to him.

               _Mac. | Harm. | Do you two know each other? | No, sir. | Yes, sir._

               He smiled, recalling this mornings' meeting. Sturgis had nearly the same look he had that day.

               _Sometimes I'd catch you looking at me…I knew you were seeing her._

               His face fell, and he could feel the rush of heat rising to the surface of his skin. How much he wanted to tell her, he thought to himself. But it was too late. And deep inside he wished he had taken all the Admiral's advice and applied it from the start.

               _Don't get too close, you're going to be working together._

               Then maybe he would have saved himself all the pain.

               _Commander, never look back._

               He took long strides forward, trying in all futility to not look back.

**********

AJ's Office

               AJ looked on at the man in the black trench coat walk a few more paces before settling for the bench beside the tree. He hunched over, rubbing his face with gloved hands. He was obviously putting all he had into steeling himself. AJ sighed empathetically, and then reached for the thin wooden stick at the side of his window, turning it to close the blinds once more. His hands clasped together behind his back as he stepped back to his seat, looking on at the woman in front of his desk. Sometimes he just hated to let things go her way too much, not that he had doubts about her abilities, but her ego just couldn't handle success. 

               "Lt.," he finally said, "why do I have this feeling that your reasons for bringing all this to my attention has absolutely nothing to do with you're being concerned for the welfare of two other officers?" AJ stated plainly as he put on his glasses and sat down.

               "Please don't misunderstand, Admiral…JAG is like a second home to me…I'm genuinely concerned for Col. Mackenzie and Commander Rabb…" Singer replied almost condescendingly.

               AJ muttered to himself, then asked matter-of-factly, "Anything else to add, Lt.?"

               "No, sir," she answered trying to hide the sense of triumph she felt.

               "Very well, then. Dismissed."

               "Aye, aye, sir," she straightened and made a sharp turn out.

               AJ noted her going, and then shook his head, half amused, but more so disapproving.

"Second home…ha." He commented to himself then pressed the intercom button hard,

"Tiner, find Commander Turner and tell him to be in my office at 1200."

               "Yes, Admiral." The voice came through the speaker.

               AJ sat back into his seat and lamented. It was going to be a long three weeks.

***********

Meeting Room

Unknown Location

               Two men sat at the end of the table, one at the head and the other on his right. The room was well lighted and drinks were already set on a trolley nearby. They were already lightly sipping some scotch, and silently watched the rest enter, the guards having checked them thoroughly before they entered the appointed council room. Each poured their own drink and when he was assured all were comfortable, the man at the dead of the table signaled to the guards, who promptly shut the door behind them, leaving the seven men inside to their private affairs.

               "Good morning gentlemen, its good to see you'all alive and kicking."

               The other smirked at his rather apt opening, then he continued,

               "Shall we begin?"

***********

JAG Headquarters

"Hold the elevator!" Harm yelled as he lunged for the doors, catching them just before they closed completely.

               "Mac," he said when the doors reopened to reveal who was inside.

               "Erm. Are you coming in?" Mac asked awkwardly.

               "Yeah. Sorry," he replied stepping in.

               She pressed the button to close the doors once more, then asked, "Which floor?"

               "The same, thanks."

               There was awkward silence between them, so Harm tried making pointless conversation to pave the way for the main topic,

               "So where'd you come from?"

               "I er…rescheduled my psych. evaluation for you know."

               _Don't ask._

               "Uh-huh…yeah," Harm acknowledged. She was supposed to have her psych. evaluation for her Indonesia trip done. Standard procedure whenever they went through traumatic incidents in their work.

               "Listen, about just now, I didn't mean to…you know…" he tried to muster a peace offering.

               She stopped him before he could build it up to an apology, "It's okay. I know."

               _Don't ask._

"So. You and me, we're okay?" he asked.

               "Why wouldn't we be?" she answered curtly.

               _Stop asking._

"And you're okay?" he probed further.

_Let me in._

"I'm handling it," she replied, agitated.

_Stop it._

               "You sure you don't want to talk?" he asked again, making Mac grow impatient.

               "Harm. I'm handling it…" she raised her voice a little, stabbing the elevator buttons as though to make it go faster.

               _Stop asking!_

               _Don't shut me out._

"Can I at least stop by your office, later?" he persisted which made her snap.

"Harm, I said I'm handling it!" she shouted.

"No you're not, Mac, you're running, so what's going on?" Harm raised his voice, "Does it have to do with you being late this morning?"

_Stop asking me!_

"Why do we have to get into this every time I get into an elevator coming up from the psych. floor? Do I have like a sign that says I need help?"

"As I recall you wanted to talk the last time!"

"Well I don't want to now!"

"What happened, Mac? Let me in, tell me how you're feeling!"

"Pressured!" she shouted back.

The elevator doors began to open once more, cutting off their heated row.

_Why are you doing this?_

_Because I said I would._

"Harm, Colonel Mackenzie!" Sturgis exclaimed, as he and Harriet stepped into the elevator. He couldn't help but feel affected once again by her semblance to Diane.

"Something wrong, Commander?" Mac asked, hinting her displeasure at being blatantly stared at.

"I'm sorry, Col., its just you look so much like em…"

"It's okay, Sturgis, she knows about Diane," Harm interjected.

"I apologise, Col.," Sturgis said to Mac, then turned around to press the elevator buttons.

Harriet felt uncomfortable. Tensions were thick inside the small space, so she was glad she and Sturgis were getting off on the next floor, but she half-wondered what had sparked off another fire.

"Mac…" she said, full of concern for the other, "…so I'll see you tonight?"

Mac tried to nod back with a small smile, guilty at having imposed her frustration on the two, especially Harriet. The other gave her a look of concern as the doors closed leaving her and Sturgis on the outside.

_Aren't you happy for you?_

**********

JAG Headquarters

"We haven't finished talking yet!" Harm called after Mac who didn't wait for the doors to open fully before storming out towards her office.

               She wanted to shout back at him but she controlled herself so as not to draw attention to themselves. Mac was turning the doorknob when Harm stopped beside her, demanding a reply.

"I have nothing to say to you!" she snapped before going in and trying to slam the door in his face. Harm slapped his palm up against the moving wooden panel, making a sound that stunned not just Mac, but everyone else around, causing them focus on the commotion.

Harm groaned then mumbled under his breath, "Look, listen to me…I didn't mean to push…I'm worried…so I…"

Mac got more irritated as he tried to smooth over the situation. As hard as he tried, it confused her all the more, and she finally told him, "Harm, Just leave me alone! That's more than enough."

And she closed the door in his face. Harm couldn't believe she had done that to him, while onlookers hurriedly got back to their business when he turned to glare at all of them.

Harm looked across to the room opposite his, and he didn't know whether he was more furious or more hurt.  He noticed that Mac had shut the blinds on her windows and stared blankly at the closed door, wondering whether or not to barge in and shake the information out of her, but his imagination of what lay beyond the wooden separator only led back to the other night, and he turned to go back into his own office, shutting the door behind him.

_               I don't want to lose you._

*********

Meeting Room

Unknown Location

               "Are you certain it's for the best to intervene?" 

               There were six men, three on each side of the table. The one who spoke carried a heavy Irish accent with his words, and was known to most only as 'Kritt'. His full name was Kristophe De'von. 

               Then another voiced, "Can we afford not to intervene?"

               He was Yong Mung Kut, otherwise known as Ni Yong.

Others at the table began muttering amongst themselves, expressing their onions and concerns. They were: Ramone Elugio, commonly known as Nilo, Mason R. Beckam, also known as James Shire, Nehemiah Yesser, otherwise known as Caleb.

***********

JAG Headquarters

1155 ZULU

               "Commander Turner,"

               Sturgis looked up from his conversation with Harriet and smiled jokingly, "Ah, your husband."

               "Sorry to interrupt, sir," Bud apologized.

               "Oh not at all, Lt., your wife was just done showing me around, you've quite the lady here, Bud," Sturgis complemented, causing both Bud and Harriet to smile gratefully.

               "Thank you, sir," Bud replied, then got down to it, "Commander, I was wondering if you could give me another day to move my things out."

               "Move out? What's that got to do with me?" Sturgis asked completely puzzled.

               "Oh! Your office, Commander," Harriet explained, "I was going to take you to see it after your meeting with the Admiral…"

               "So why the moving?" he asked further.

               "You see, sir, " Bud filled him in, "the only other office available is my old one…"

               "And its really quite crammed…" Harriet added.

               "Pipes and stuff all over the ceiling…" Bud continued.

               "Real unsightly, sir," Harriet concluded the description.

               "…The _moving, Lt?" Sturgis asked again._

               "Oh! Sorry, Sir," Bud apologized again, "I'm going to move my stuff back there and let you have the bigger office."

               "Ah…" Sturgis responded.

               "Hey, what's going on here, Buddy?" Harm walked towards them with a file in hand. He placed his other arm over Sturgis' shoulder.

               Sturgis replied, "The Lt. here was about to give me his office…"

               "Well, sir, its only right…" Bud explained, then turned to Harm, "Its _that room, sir."_

               Harm nodded understanding, then looked at Sturgis to see his response. The other looked thoughtful for a moment, then glanced at both Bud and Harriet,

               "Pipes and stuff, huh?"

               The couple nodded.

               "Small and cramped?" he asked for further confirmation.

               They nodded somemore, then studied him curiously as he smiled at Harm.

               Sturgis looked back at Bud and replied, "Lt. why don't you keep your office? I think I'm going to like the other one a lot better." Then he started towards AJ's office.

               Harm stifled a laugh at Bud and Harriet's total bewilderment and explained casually as he followed after his friend,

               "The Commander was a submariner…"

**********

Meeting Room

Unknown Location

The sixth amongst them said nothing, but in bid to quiet them down he looked to his left towards the man who sat next to him at the head of the table. He cleared his throat, "Ahem…"

               The rest quietened down and turned respectfully to the head. The man had his chair turned away from them, and the back of his head blocked by the tall backrest. Thoughtful silence was observed as he held the small silver cross to his lips unmoving. Then he spoke,

               "We will intervene only as much as is necessary...it's not the first time we are attempting an operation of such magnitude…"

"But each operation is never the same, there are many variables…" Ni Yong reminded them.

               "Which is precisely why we have to keep a low profile …" another interrupted him.

               "But bear in mind…" Ni Yong started another objection.

               "Alright, alright, enough," the man at the head of the table calmed them, and referred to the man on his right, "You have made the arrangements, Sokol?"

               "As well as can be done," Mark Falcon answered.

               "Then all that's left to do now is to see how the game plays out," the man stated plainly to the rest, "There's no sense anticipating what can't be anticipated and we've covered all that can be."

"But is that all?" Ni Yong questioned again.

"Unless you have a better idea…" Mark began to get irritated by the other's aggressiveness.

"I said enough!" the old man raised his voice, letting go of the small treasure he was holding on to. The silver cross draped from his chain onto his chest, and he turned his chair around to focus solely on Ni Yong. Diplomatically, he asked, "You question the course of action?"

Ni Yong locked eyes with him as he clarified his stand, "No…"

"Then you question my ability to carry out the course of action?"

A thick silence came over the room, as usually was when it came down to a confrontation with the jealous Ni Yong. On one hand his behavior could be such a pain, on the other hand they felt they knew him well enough to know he would never play out his grudge of losing the seat to the other. In some sense, he was like a stabilizing factor for the group, insurance so things never got too easy for any one of them. The thorn in the flesh had its place. 

**********__

AJ's Office

               "You have a problem with my decision, Col.?" AJ eyed her carefully.

               "No, sir," she replied.

Sturgis felt utterly uncomfortable at the vibes pulsing between the two…Mac looked like she was going to walk over and gun Harm down for what just happened, and Sturgis just couldn't comprehend why. He noticed the Admiral hadn't shown much reaction towards all this, so he figured this was supposed to be normal, but why it was normal? Only God could know, he concluded. AJ looked at Sturgis silently advised, _get used to it, son. But all proceedings were soon interrupted by the voice that came through the door._

"Admiral!"

               AJ stood, as did Harm and Mac, so Sturgis followed.

               "Good morning, Ma'am," the three officers stood aside to allow her space as she walked in. Bobbi quickly assessed that she had probably walked in at a less than favorable time, but scarcely let it affect her intentions.

"Congresswoman, to what do I owe the great honor of this visit?" AJ asked with his usual tone, the one laced with sarcasm. Every time this woman waltzed in you could anticipate a media riot at your doorstep the very next morning, he remarked to himself. Nevertheless, AJ had to admit she was all in all a good person, one those you just hated to love. 

"I'm sorry Admiral, was I interrupting?" Bobbi mused.

"Would it make a difference if I said 'yes'?" he answered.

AJ sighed then turned her attention to Sturgis, "Congresswoman, this is our newest addition to JAG, Commander Sturgis Turner. Commander, Congresswoman Bobbi Latham."

"Commander."

"Nice to meet you, Ma'am."

The two did indeed notice one another, but Sturgis made and effort to conceal it well in font of his superior. Bobbi on the other hand was quite her usual self, which came as no surprise to the others in the room.

"Have a seat, Ma'am," AJ motioned roughly at the chairs in front of desk, and Sturgis quickly moved help Bobbi get seated before pulling up another chair. As they got settled, Bobbi took the chance to observe Harm and Mac. They were a pair that never ceased to intrigue her.

_Mac likes you._

_She'd like to wring my neck._

_I get that feeling a couple of times a day, Commander, but it passes._

She concluded that nothing had changed.

***********              

Meeting Room

Unknown Location

With no one speaking up to challenge the head, it was clear that all had reached a consensus, even if some more satisfied with the outcome then not. So the finally drew the meeting to a close, and the others left.

"Should I prepare for your departure?" Mark finally enquired. 

               "Push back departure for two more days. I'd like to stay here and monitor the situation more closely," the man replied, and rose to stand by the window.

Mark looked on knowingly, and then moved from his seat to put his cup on the tray nearby.

***********

Mess Room

               The petty officer nearly breezed right past, but stopped in his tracks and came in.

               "Ma'am," he addressed her.

               "Mm....yes, Tiner?" Harriet hurriedly swallowed the mouth of coffee and looked up.

               "…Sorry, sir, am I interrupting…?" he asked glancing at the two seated in front of him.

               "Oh, don't worry…" Harriet waved the inquiry off, " we're just having our coffee break…what's up?"

               "Ma'am, I don't know if you heard…"

               "About the Messenger Scholarship?" she finished for him.

               "Yes, Ma'am."

               "I did actually…" she gleamed, "Congratulations!"

               "Yes, Congratulations, Tiner, " Bud agreed with her.

               "Thank you, Sir, Ma'am…" he replied, then went on, "Actually Ma'am, its what I wanted to see you about…I wanted to say 'thank you'-"

               "For what, Tiner?" she held the cup to her lips to take another sip.

               "For…you know, Ma'am…"

               "Hmm…? OH! …Oh!" she exclaimed, choking on her coffee, resulting in much concern from both men.

               "Harriet, are you alright?" Bud stood to pat her back.

               "…I'm…oh-kay, honey…" she strained, and coughed some more.

               "I'm sorry, Ma'am…" Tiner watched apologetically.

               "…It's quite alright, Tiner…you didn't do anything…" she assured him. 

               Harriet took deep breaths to quell the situation and Bud sat back down to his coffee. After a few moments, she returned to Tiner,

               "What was I saying then…oh yes! No need to thank me, Tiner, I didn't do anything."

               "But you did, Ma'am…" he said, "You have no idea how- how incredible this is for me, I'm finally showing people that I'm worth something…I'm finally doing something with my life! I'm doing something right!"

               "Tiner, I'm sure your dad is proud of you as you are…" Harriet responded.

               Deep inside, Tiner couldn't accept that, but he was genuinely grateful to them, and said it once more, "Thank you, Ma'am."

               Harriet simply sighed, and nodded in acknowledgement.

"Would you thank him for me, Ma'am?" he asked.

"Why don't you thank him yourself, Tiner?" she replied.

Bud had been quietly drinking his coffee, but when Tiner was crossing the threshold he whispered to Harriet, "What was that about?"

Before she could answer, the petty officer turned again to repeat himself, drawing their attentions, "Ma'am, Thank you."

"For what this time, Tiner?" she asked, puzzled.

"For believing that I was worth something."

Harriet felt almost sad that he had said that, but put her hand on Bud's.

"You're worth a lot more than _something_, Tiner…we _all_ believe that."

He smiled in return, and repeated the same words, but this time not just to her.

**************

Meeting Room

Unknown Location

"Do you think he was right?" the old man asked, not moving from his place by the window.

               Mark turned around to look at the other man, but tried to avoid the question,

"I trust you…"

               "That was not my question," the other pointed out.

               Mark twitched mildly, and then he answered again, "…his concerns are not unfounded."

               The other cleared his throat, nodding, "I agree."

                "You're worried then that you won't follow through?" Mark was taken aback by his response, and wanted an explanation.

               The other man laughed and returned to his seat, using one hand to massage the stiffness in his shoulder. Mark quickly came to the table to pursue the matter, "tell me…" his eyes fixated on the old man.

               His hair was nearly all silver, except for the few strands of black that made an appearance here and there. He looked ten years younger than he really was; and was pretty strong for his age they made sure of that. Perhaps the only thing that could give him away was the tired look he got in his eyes every now and then, the look of a man who had experienced countless adversities and near impossibilities, enough to rival the trials of many men put together. But that was one secret kept well under lock and key, maybe the only one who could pick up its fleeting appearance was _him_. His thumb rubbed absently against a scar near his collarbone. It was one of four, the proof their lifelong covenant with one another.

               "I thought you said you trusted me," he joked with the younger, who groaned in frustration, unsatisfied with the answer he had given to him.

               "Godfather…"

               The old man smiled more so, but continued with a serious word,

               "If I could I would have kept you from this life."

                Mark sighed and looked down. The other continued, "Mark, your parents would have done the same if they could…"

               "I know," he said quietly.

               The older man took his hand from his shoulder and briefly placed it on Mark, "Bring me my cane will you?"

               His godson obeyed.

               "Well then, what should we have for lunch?" he got out of his seat, rambling as Mark helped him with the trench coat, "You decide…" he said to Mark, "but none of that fast food rubbish…one morning at that grease joint was more than enough to last two lifetimes!"

               Mark laughed at his grumbling and handed him the elegant wooden cane; it was stained near black and very finely finished. The tip was plated gold, so was the handle on the head; which had a small section of glass in its neck, a ring cast inside. He had gone to great lengths to retrieve that ring, and had the cane specially made. He knew how much the old man had kept it in memory all those years.

His godfather held it up for a moment, appreciating it as he had done so many times before in the past decade, and he gripped Mark's shoulder firmly, expressing silent gratitude once again.

               "Godfather…" Mark asked one more time, wanting his assurance.

               The man looked at him with understanding, but wouldn't lie.

               "I trust you." 

*************

AJ's Office

"Admiral, my congratulations to your officers for a job well done on the recent trial," the congresswoman said.

               "With all due respect, Ma'am, we lost that trial, and put a good corporal away for five years," Mac disagreed.

               "Ah, you lose the bigger picture Col., you've certainly stirred doubts towards some fellows up in Washington…you lost one man, but gained the support of a nation…"

               "And good American voters, Ma'am?" Harm added sarcastically.

               "Perks on the side, Harm," Bobbi defended coolly.

               "Bobbi," AJ intervened before things got out of hand, "…you didn't come here to compliment my people on a case…"

               "Of course not, I came to ask if I might borrow your two pin-up kids for a dinner tomorrow night."

               The look of dread came over Harm and Mac as they both tried to think of an excuse to get out of this impending predicament.

               "Another one of your campaign stops, Congresswoman?" AJ remarked

               "It _is_ to your benefit, Admiral, and you know it," Bobbi gloated.

               He sighed, and was about to give them his go ahead, but Mac interrupted, "Er, Admiral…"

               "Mac, yes. I forget. Ma'am I'm afraid you're going to have to do without the Col. seeing as she has preparations to make for her wedding," AJ amended.

               "Ah yes, of course! Congratulations, Sarah, I'm sure you can't wait for the day to arrive," Bobbi said, her eyes narrowing slightly to see beyond the surface of Mac's reply.

               "Definitely, Ma'am," _definitely, Mac answered, trying to convince herself._

                Bobbi smirked, then remarked, "Batman loses Robin…I lose half the voting population that thrives on testosterone," hiding the intended provocation behind supposed humor. She looked for a response, then knowing she had hit a home run on that one, she continued, "but what can I say, women's rights is just another fancy dress you and I wear out in public, at the end of the day every woman wants what you want, Mac, even me."

               "And what might that be, Congresswoman?" Harm asked, hiding his discomfort. 

_A good man, a good career and lots of comfortable shoes?_

               Bobbi smirked cheekily inside, then replied, "That's for us women to know and you to go find out, Commander. They don't call women lifelong mysteries for nothing, huh, Mac?"

               Mac shifted uneasily as Harm's gaze fell on her, giving Bobbi Latham a less than enthusiastic acknowledgment. Everyone noticed.

               "But, coming back to my dinner…since the Col. can't make it, why don't _you_ come along, Commander? You can be my…personal security." Bobbi flashed him a dark, lingering look.

In a few short sentences, Congresswoman Bobbi Latham had managed to breakdown the hidden schematics behind the relationship of two of his senior attorneys', provoking them enough for him to start anticipating a big hiccup some time soon, seduced his newest addition into becoming her next pin up boy, and reduced Rabb's ego to a peanut. Of all three he was most impressed with the last. The woman had the impeccable knack of 'catching a bull by its balls', no pun intended. He had to concede that this was the demarcation that set a politician a step above lawyers. At least when it came to this politician, AJ remarked silently. And just when he thought he had been spared, Bobbi got to him.

"I would invite you, Admiral, but I don't want to come across as trying too hard…"

He didn't even spot it coming when she continued, "and there's a chance you might end up costing me… you know politicians, egotistical males..."

"Excuse me, Ma'am? I'm not sure I get you," AJ asked, despite anticipating an upcoming massacre round the next corner.

  
               "Oh. Were you not informed, Admiral?" Bobbi replied matter-of-factly, "After all those _widely-publicized_ trials, you topped this years' list of America's Most Desirable Men, poll among women aged 35 – 55yrs. You beat Sean Connery by a narrow 3 points…"

               He nearly fell over.

               "I told you this was to _your_ benefit," she mocked.

***********

Daniel Chang's

Kensington Blvd

               "da-ge _(Older brother)_!"

               "di-di _(Younger brother)_…" the other responded bittersweet.

               "You're looking good for an old man…"

               "Speak for yourself, Nathan," the restaurant owner replied.

               Mark watched the two old men embrace before taking the hand Daniel Chang extended after.

               "Mark."

               "Daniel."

               "I see all is well with you," the Chinese man said, "…and with your godfather."

               "Careful _Bane_, we don't want that getting round," Mark joked respectfully, calling the man by his alias.

               "I won't tell if you don't…" the other returned. Then the elderly man turned to the waiter standing at the entrance of the restaurant, speaking in a tongue the other two both recognized as _Hakka_, one of many Chinese dialects. The waiter listened intently and then nodded in understanding before speaking into the microphone headset he was wearing.

               "You run a tight ship, Daniel…" the old man complimented.

               "I have important guests," he reasoned, and motioned for them to follow, "Come, I've prepared a room at the back."

               The restaurant was elegant, comfortable. Guests who came to Daniel Chang's restaurant fell into one of two categories, 'rich' or 'filthy rich'. Usually, the common denominator in the two…was the word '_powerful'_. This posh and lavish establishment was patronized only by the select few. Aristocrats and rich officials, and a few famous stars maybe, here and there. Fact of the matter: if you wanted to talk politics, this was the place. Many were top men and women from various fields of industry, commerce and government, people who were key elements of influence across the board. Daniel retained some of the top chefs in the world, but would occasionally bringing in one or two not on staff upon request, if he felt it was safe.

               "We missed you today, sir," Mark made some casual conversation when he was sure no one would take notice.

               "Did you really?" the other replied raising an eye-brow, "I'm sure life was a lot easier."

               Mark smiled with nothing in reply, he knew the former was referring to Ni Yong, and he continued following closely behind the two elders, relaxing himself in the safety of the establishment. It was seldom he could just let lose and not have to have his guard up, the owner more than made sure of that. His godfather was the one who kept up an observant eye, noticing the waitress who breezed past them as they headed towards the room, and he approved of Daniel's expertise.

               "I see you haven't lost it, Nathan," Daniel remarked casually.

               "I appreciate what is there," Nathan replied.

               Mark listened to the two but said nothing. His godfather had obviously identified one of Bane's agents. Daniel Chang was renowned for churning out only the very best operatives, exceptional in every way that even the most experienced would sometimes not be able to single them out. The man had a delicate hand, an amazing ability to assess the intricate layers of an operation, and to balance its sensitive scales, yet he preferred to apply it primarily to training others. He had been Director to the previous Oversight, and even with how easily he could have ascended into that position when the former KIA-ed, he did not covet the power. Instead, he had mentored and prepared Nathan for the post, which angered Ni Yong, who was then already in one of the seats of Operations, and was known to be the best at his job. Nathan proved a terrible upset, a lowly operative who was raised up overnight and put into the hot seat.

               "I shall have to have some words with Darryl when she gets back," Daniel told Nathan.

               "I _had_ a good teacher, Daniel," Nathan reminded him.

               "Ihad a good student," he rebutted.

               Nathan sighed, and tipped his head, agreeing not to pursue the matter further. As the door was opened for them, he recognized the rich, spicy flavor that filled his nostrils, and he smiled in contentment.

"How did you have time?" he looked wonderingly at the other.

"I expected that you might stop by," Daniel replied.

Nathan let out a knowing laugh, and then crossed the threshold shaking his head, "You know me all too well."

***********

JAG Headquarters

               "As a marine I thought you'd appreciate some time up in Quantico!"

               "As an aviator I thought you'd appreciate some fresh air!"

The three had just stepped out of the Admiral's office. In all honesty Sturg wanted to laugh at what had just gone down inside between the Admiral and Congresswoman Latham, but he was too preoccupied by the cross fire going on between his colleagues as they headed toward their offices.

"Hey look here! I did not make the call! The Admiral did!" Harm reasoned.

               "Oh sure! I'm sure you had nothing to do with it!" Mac shouted, "You sandbagged me, Harm! Just like you've sandbagged me before and will probably do again!"

Mac closed the door of her office, leaving Harm on the other side yet another time, taken aback by her last statement. He looked more defeated than anything as he groaned, retreating to the confines of his own office, closing the door on Sturgis' face before the latter could follow him in.

               "Incredulous," Sturg grumbled to himself before letting himself in.

               Harm was leaning against the table, and looked up wondering what the other was doing in his office, but then he saw the file in his hands and remembered,

               "I'm sorry, man! I…" he couldn't find the words, so flayed his arms letting them flop heavily over the armrests.

               Sturg closed the door and just stood for some time, thinking.

               "Harm," he finally said, "I can see this isn't the best time. Why don't we just do this tomorrow?"

"No, no…" he motioned when Harm tried to persuade him otherwise, "I've got to settle in first anyway…" and he turned to leave.

               "Sturg," Harm stopped him, "About just now…"

               "What do you mean?" he asked.

               "This thing with Mac and I…we're just in a weird place right now, so don't let it bother you, alright?"

Sturg paused, then nodded, "Okay," and turned to leave.

               Harm studied him, then mumbled, "Its bothering you…"

               Sturg shifted the door back into its frame and replied, "I don't even know what you're talking about." _Do you want to tell me something, buddy?_ He looked at Harm intently. 

               "Well, you were sensing something…"

               "Tension…"

               "There you go."

               "I don't know anything about your relationship…doesn't mean anything to me," Sturgis replied, trying to tell Harm '_you don't have to tell me if you two are involved'_. Harm on the other hand interpreted it as '_I know you two are involved even if you don't say', _and began digging his own grave much to Sturgis' amusement.

               "Right. Just don't assume anything alright?"

               "Like what?" Sturg probed.

               "Like…n-nothing!" Harm defended, "…whatever you're thinking, you're probably wrong!"

               "If you say so, buddy," and Sturg pretended to go for the door once more. He was hoping Harm would tell more…he wasn't disappointed and grinned mischievously.

               "Mac and I are just friends!" Harm let out agitatedly.

               "Now I didn't say you weren't," he said.

               "I know…" Harm tried to back up.

               "Is there reason to believe otherwise?" Sturg stepped toward him.

               "No…" Harm acted, going to the metal cabinet and pulling out a case file that he'd dealt with a year back.

               "Cos you seem to be suggesting…" Sturg closed in.

               "I'm not suggesting anything…" he flipped into the file nervously, pretending to be reading the content.

               "Were you ever a couple?"

               By now Sturg was just behind him, breathing down his neck and it made him jump.

               "No," he tried to hide.

               "Did it ever come up?"

               Harm faked distraction and walked towards the door wanting to get out.

               "Harm, are you involved with her?"

               "I'm not!" Harm swung round holding the door slightly ajar.

               "You sure?" Sturg questioned, unbelieving.

               "Look," Harm said opening the door and getting ready to run, "Anyone who has ever been involved with Mac is either dead or feels like they are…"

His breath left him.

"Excuse me…" she whispered painfully, her hands still holding on to a file in mid-air as she walked away.

Sturgis straightened from leaning on the table feeling terrible, but had to admit to himself, maybe only half of what Harm was feeling.

"I'd better go," he uttered, and eased his way past Harm and the door.

Harm closed the door after him, and finally remembered to exhale, still stunned by what had happened.

***********

Daniel Chang's

1324 ZULU

               Nathan lifted the napkin to his lips and carefully dabbed, "Fantastic…"

               "You flew him all the way here?" Mark asked.

               "He arrived last Saturday…I estimated it would be well in time," Daniel replied.

               Nathan sighed and asked, "Am I becoming that predictable?"

               All was quiet for a while, so Mark took the cue and began getting up from his seat, buttoning his blazer, "I'll leave you two alone."

"Take Mr. Falcon to the private lounge," Daniel instructed the waiter standing by the door. The young man quickly obeyed, picking up Mark's trench coat and showing him out. Then he turned to Nathan,

"Come, there is much to discuss."

Nathan followed him out as well.

***********

Harm's Office

               Bobbi knocked lightly on the doorframe when he didn't notice her come in. He was deep in thought.

               "Mind if I come in?" she said.

               Harm looked up and then stood quickly, "Congresswoman! Please come in…have a seat"

               Bobbi closed the door and could feel the atmosphere shift gears. Protocol and hierarchy - it was a façade that had to be kept for the motor to run smoothly, but once in a while, when no one was looking, you could indulge yourself and take down the mask momentarily. Harm came around between her and his table, half sitting on it.

               "Not in congress with the nation's most desirable man?" he joked.

               "He couldn't wait to get me out of the room," she winked back.

               Harm laughed and then replied, "You asked for it you know…"

               "Can I help the fact that the ladies take to him? Besides, don't lie, Harm, you men revel in the attention," Bobbi defended coyly.

               "Are you accusing us men of false humility?" he feigned hurt.

               "Oh no, just the Admiral, Harm. In your case you revel shamelessly!" she commented, making both of them laugh, and Harm raise his hands in mock-surrender.

               "So, poster boy. What's the scoop?"

               "The scoop?" Harm looked back at her quizzically.

               "Yeah," Bobbi coaxed, "…the latest report on Batman and Robin."

               Harm sighed, and answered, "What's there to report? You heard, she's getting married."

               "And you're okay with that?" she raised an eyebrow.

               "Bobbi, there's nothing going on between me and Mac…" Harm defended.

               "So you both say," she quipped.

               "…I'm with Renee," he managed to point out

               "If you say so…" she antagonized him,_ just like Sturgis_.

               "You're all in cahoots," he muttered softly so only he could hear.

"What?" she strained to understand his words.

"Bobbi," he revised the conversation, "I don't have to explain myself to you."

               "But maybe you need to explain it to you," she followed his lead.

               Harm rolled his eyes and then replied, "What are you talking about?"

               "I'm talking about you being in love with someone and not telling her…" Bobbi set the trap…

               "I'm not in love with, Mac!" he walked right in…

               "Did I say I was talking about, Mac?"

               _Bingo._

_               Shit._

"Talk to her, Harmon."

               "She's getting married in three weeks!" he replied in frustration.

               "So?"

               "So I already ruined her first attempt and I'm not about to ruin her second!"

               "What makes you think her second attempts' better off _not-ruined? …Talk to her."_

               Harm breathed, then replied, "I tried that once…"

               "And?" she implored.

               "And she made her choice."

               Bobbi sighed sheepishly, and wondered how it was possible for them to keep foiling up something as simple as this, "So why then? Why'd she make that choice?"

               Harm didn't answer, so Bobbi answered for him,

               "Because she's waited. You think a woman can afford to wait around for _one_ man forever?     What are you afraid of? And don't tell me it'll ruin your professional relationship…"

               Harm thought for a while, trying to think of a remotely relevant rebuttal, and groaned when he couldn't.

 He replied, "I…"

               "Go on…" she encouraged him.

               Harm went quiet, them somberly replied, "It wouldn't work out. I'd lose her altogether, and that'll hurt more than it does now."

               Bobbi sighed, and then put one hand on his, her lips curving slightly, "Harm, you can't always be in control, _the world don't work that way_, sailor…_relationships_ don't work that way."

She sighed, and advised, "Stop running…she couldn't reject you even if she wanted to. You're too quick for her."

               Harm laughed sadly, "Is this supposed to be comforting?" he mused, then added, "You know you could be wrong about all this."

               Bobbi ignored him and persuaded one last time, "Talk to her."

Then she got up and started out the door, "Just a tip, Commander, a woman's 'no' doesn't necessarily always mean 'no'."

"You're all walking contradictions," he lamented.

Bobbi just smiled and plainly stated, "Face it, its what keeps you men interested."

Harm sat on his desk and watched the door click shut.

_She was wrong_, he convinced himself.

_She was wrong_.

***************

JAG Headquarters

AJ walked from his door across to a secretary's desk and flipped through the file she handed him sheepishly, _better this than Bobbi Latham_; he tried to cheer himself out of the boredom he felt. From the corner of his eye he caught Mac going past, and without shifting in the least, he muttered what was meant to be just a casual, passing word,

               "How's it going, Col.?"

               But the curt reply he got in return caught his attention, and concern, and it was too late for Mac to take it back.

               "I'm sorry, sir," she apologized for her behavior.

               "Everything okay?" he asked.

               "Yeah…everything's fine…" she looked away from him.

               "Good," he obliged.

               "We're still meeting for…"

"Yes, sir," Mac replied, feeling uneasy, "erm…"

               AJ saw, so motioned her off, "Carry on…"

               He let her go. For now.

***********

Daniel Chang's

               They went through the kitchen, briefly stopping to greet Marphilando, the chef whom Daniel had specially brought in before proceeding up the staircase to his office. It already had pot of Chinese tea boiling in the small sitting area at the side, and the two men settled opposite to one another.

               Daniel ceremoniously rinsed the teacups and poured out the tea.

               "Oulong?" Nathan asked.

               The other man glanced up at him briefly as he continued pouring, amused by the pronunciation. He answered, "One part _ju hua_, two parts _wu long_."

               The two men burst into laughter at the same time, and continued laughing as a young girl, no older than six came in with a tray. She had her hair tied up into two pigtails and wore the sweetest smile. Daniel introduced her as she put two bowls of ice cream on the table. Nathan noticed how steady and nimble her hands were, and was able to tell straight away that she had to have started her training. A part of him felt sad for her.

               "Nathan, I want you to meet Rou Ying…Zoe…" he corrected much to the other's relief, "My granddaughter."

               "Hello, Zoe," Nathan said to the child.

               "Xiao Ying," Daniel called her affectionately by her pet name, and continued speaking in mandarin,

"zhe shi Gong-gong de en di hao you _(This is grandpa's sworn brother and cherished friend)_. ta yi qian wei le jiu ni Ba-ba _(Once, to save your father__)_, bei song jing jian lao shou ku_(he was imprisoned and tortured)__, _cha dian'er diu le xing ming _(nearly losing his life)_. er qie, ta ying wei zhe yang _(And in doing so)__,_ shi qu le ta zi ji de qin ren _(he lost his own family)__._ Shuo yi _(That is why)__,_ ni zhe yi bei zhi _(for the rest of your life)_, yi ding yao ji de _(you must remember)_: zhe jia shuo qian ta de en qing _(the debt of love this household owes him)_, shi yong yuan ye huan bu qing _(we shall never ever be able to make up for)__._ yi hou _(In future)__,_ ru guo wo huo shi ni Yi-yi bu neng bao da ta de en dian _(should I or your aunt fail to repay him the deed)__,_ jiu quan kao ni le _(it will be all up to you)__._ zi dao le ma _(Do you understand)_?

               "zi dao le _(I understand)_, Gong-gong _(grandpa)_," the little girl nodded in reply.

               "kuai jiao shen 'Yi-gong' _(Quick, greet  'granduncle')_" he told her.

               "Yi-gong _(Granduncle)_," the little one said to Nathan.

               "guai _(good girl)_," he replied placing his hand on her head and looking towards his friend and mentor, "You didn't need to tell her that, Daniel."

               The other smiled and turned to let his granddaughter reply for him, "Yi-gong," Zoe said in a tiny voice, "The two most important things to our family is 'zhen' and 'qin' _(''true and steadfast' and 'family and loyalty')_. Grandpa says until our family repays the deed, we will forever be bound to you by virtue of debt. But when the debt is removed, what lies to be uncovered is that our two families are bound by love – 'zhen qin' _('true love')_.

               Nathan marveled at the child's maturity of years, and commented, "You've taught her well."

               The proud grandfather smiled, then stroked the little one's cheek, "ni zuo de hen hao _(You did really well)_, qu ba _(you may go now)_."

               The little one grinned brightly at her grandfather and then ran out the door.

               "It doesn't bother you that she's condemned to this life we lead?" Nathan asked.

               The other looked at him pondering, and answered, "It would bother me more if she led a life without values."

               "Rou Ying?"

               "Gentle yet firm," Daniel explained.

Nathan smiled and nodded, "Green tea…" he said referring to the ice cream.

               "I wouldn't serve you anything else if I could help it. Eat…"

               The two took the first couple of mouthfuls in silence. Daniel opened the conversation,

               "I take it he had much criticize?"

               The other shook his head, "Not as much as I'd expected…and his concerns are more than reasonable."

               "That is true…you have a hard decision to make."

               "This job is a lifetime…it becomes your life. I don't know which is worse, leaving him to the wolves are turning him into one. Ni Yong may have been a better choice…I still hold on emotional ties."

               "Ni Yong is ruthless, which is what make him good at his job. Your position requires compassion. A man who feels all the guilt of letting go, but does because it is the right choice."

               "This is different."

               "No different, just greater a sacrifice."

               Nathan sighed, "I'm getting too old for this job…perhaps it is time pass the torch to the younger generation. Has one been identified?"

               Daniel shook his head and answered, "They are all restless. Too eager. And Mark, he still has some way to go, but you and I both know he's in his place. He knows it too."

               'Mm…" the other agreed, "And yours?"

               "Ha! Impulsive and bull-headed…"

               "I find it hard to believe one pupil can be such a struggle to you."

               The two men laughed and Daniel replied, "As you said, I'm an old man. I can only take her so far. But her path is inevitable. She'll have to learn."

               "As I did…" Nathan remarked.

               "Yes," Daniel stated, "Hoist the young bird from its nest and it must learn to fly." 

               "Hmm…" the other grunted absently.

               "You need to let go…you can't try to control what's not yours to control. Do what you can, let fate decide the rest."

               "Does it ever get easier?"

               "No, it doesn't, you only put yourself through more pain fighting what is the mantle of your destiny, I believe you are more than familiar with what I mean," Daniel pointed out.

Nathan brought the hot tea to his lips, feeling the queer sensation it produced on his cold tongue.

"Mmm…I do…I certainly do."

**********


	6. Book 1: River Crossings - Chapter 5

Beyond the Rivers of Jordan

Book 1: River Crossings

**_Chapter 5_**

****

JAG Internal Network

Log entry no: 20016657

"I'm spinning out of control…yeah out of control… Chaos rulez!"

User ID: Cavalier

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

1504 ZULU

"Sir, I'm sorry, but the Col. has put a hold on all her calls…I know, sir, yes, sir this is the sixth time you're calling….she's busy, sir…"

               "Who is that, Tiner?"

               Tiner covered the headset then mouthed quietly, "Commander Brumby, Ma'am."

               "Let me," Harriet put down the files and walked over to Tiner's desk to take the phone, "Hi, Mic? It's Harriet….Yes, I know you've been trying to get her, but she's been tied up with a case the whole afternoon….no, I doubt you'll be able to get her today…maybe later tonight?…yeah, I expect we'll get home around eleven if nothing goes wrong…uh-huh, uh-huh….alright, I'll tell her, Mic. Yeah, bye bye."

               Tiner gave a sigh of relief and told Harriet, "THANK YOU, Ma'am!"

               "That's probably the tenth time you've said that today, Tiner," she joked.

               "Yes…I know Ma'am…THANK YOU!" he repeated, obviously irritated by the numerous phone calls Mic was putting in.

               "Was it that bad, Tiner?" Harriet asked.

               "It's not that I don't like Commander…I mean Mr. Brumby, but there are so many calls the Admiral want me to make…and with him so difficult on the phone…"

               "Difficult, Tiner?" she looked surprised.

               "Yes, Ma'am…I know!" he agreed, "I assumed he and the Col. had a fight or something…not that it's any of my business, Ma'am."

               "Mmm…" Harriet mumbled, and then turned to Tiner, "Well then, he won't be calling anymore for today, so you can go about your business…"

               "Yes, Ma'am…" Tiner replied as Harriet walked off, "Thank you, Ma'am!"

               "Eleven, Tiner!" Harriet hollered back without turning.

               She took a straight route, not stopping till she reached Mac's office. The door was open, but she knocked nevertheless to make sure it was okay for her to disturb.

               "Hey, Harriet! Come in…close the door."

               Harriet did so and walked over to Mac's side of the desk, looking at the note paper she had in front of her, "Hmm…leaves…and lines, lots of them…an out of shape Garfield? …oh and er…'life is like a vacuum cleaner, it sucks!'…I take it your day has been rather fruitful."

               "…Doodling…helps me to think," she tried to explain.

               "…'To hell with the world'…" Harriet pointed out another scribbled phrase and perched herself on the table, "Good defense counsel."

               "Alright…" Mac put the pen down, "So I haven't exactly come up with a solid strategy…"

               "…'Drown the bloody…"

               "Alright, alright!" Mac threw her hands up to stop Harriet from reading another horrendous phrase, "So I have nothing! Zilch!"

               Harriet smiled triumphantly, and then got started, "So why's the world going to hell today? Wouldn't have anything to do with why a certain fiancé has called six times?"

               Mac swallowed and tried to cover as convincingly as possible, "You know Mic, likes to call…and I was working so…"

               "Uh-huh…uh-huh…" Harriet went, unbelieving, so she looked at the paper once more, "…'men are the scum of the…' …"

               Mac slammed her hands over the paper, and tried to pull an innocent grin on Harriet as she pulled it away.

               "Tell…" Harriet warned.

               "Harriet, honey…" Mac pouted.

               "Oh no…don't you 'honey' me…" Harriet pretended to reach for the paper that was steadily retreating behind Mac, then she gently touched Mac's cheek to make her take the conversation more seriously. Mac sighed, and looked at her with tiredness etched in her eyes.

               "What happened, dearie? Did you guys have a fight? Cos it's normal before a wedding you know…"

               "We didn't have a fight, Harriet…" Mac exhaled frustratedly. She was quiet at first as she stood up to explain things, but then her face scrunched up a couple of times, her eyes becoming a little red. Mac struggled to control the overpowering emotions, and said "I mean…I don't know if you qualify it as a fight… we fought, but he doesn't really know we did…but its not _that_ that's bothering me, so I'm not sure if the problem is a problem…"

               Mac shifted a foot unsteadily, and Harriet suspected something was wrong, so she reached out, "Slow down, honey…you're starting to –Woah!" she jumped of the table as Mac dropped back into her chair.

               "Okay, breath, Mac…" Harriet stroked Mac's back trying to calm her.

               Mac was bending over towards her knees, trying to dispel the dizziness by regulating her breathing. Twice in one day! She couldn't believe it. Harriet took the USMC mug letting her take a sip of water and putting it back on the table. As Mac looked up again, she pushed the hair out of her face and was shocked. She hadn't seen her girl friend look so pale and distraught, at least not out of the hospital, and she quickly felt her cheeks and neck, grabbing hold of her hands.

               "Sarah! What happened? You're so cold!" she exclaimed.

               "I'm alright, Harriet…really…"

               "No, you're not!"

               "I just… didn't sleep well…that's all."

               Harriet frowned worriedly and held both Mac's hands in hers, "Sarah, you don't have to pretend with me, okay? You should have come to me about what happened."

               "I know…I just…" Mac stammered, "It's just too complicated..."

               "Alright, I've got time to get it out of you…either way I'm not letting you tell me right now…did you pack your bag?"

               "Yes…"

               "Mmm…" Harriet muttered rubbing Mac's hand to warm them and feeling her neck to see if the temperature was coming up again, "I'm going to tell the Admiral you need the rest of the day off."

               "Harriet…"

               "No buts! You're not getting anything done in this state…"

               "But I've got a ton of work to do…"

               "So bring it home…if you're feeling better you can work on it later tonight!"

               "Okay…" Mac answered reluctantly.

               "Start packing your stuff!" Harriet looked back briefly to say as she hurried out.

               "Yes, Mom…" Mac remarked sarcastically.

               "I heard that!"

               Mac shook her head as she picked up the documents on the table to replace inside their folder, but stopped when she came to the piece of notebook paper. She sighed, running her fingers over the small words scribbled at the side, one which Harriet hadn't seen.

               _Guilty, or not guilty? Guilty._

************

Underground Detention Facility

Unknown Location, Washington DC

               "We've been over this a million times!"

               "And we'll keep going through it until you tell me the truth!"

               "Argh! I _am_ telling you the truth!" she growled getting up from the steel table, "Who the hell are you anyway, Mr. Webb?"

               "I told you, I'm spe-…" 

"Yeah, yeah! Special Assistant to the Under Secretary of State! And I'm the Dahli Lama!"

Clayton glared the marine in front of him, and bluntly stated, "Major Reese, in case you haven't noticed yours isn't exactly a straightforward case! You are facing murder one, two and manslaughter, a dozen counts of treason and espionage against the United States of America, not to mention desertion and wrongful conduct as an officer of the Marine Corps, and don't let me get started on how many rules you broke in international ceasefire and immigration agreements! As far as I'm concerned I'd rather throw you to the wolves! But Congresswoman Latham obviously thinks your sorry ass may not be a lost cause and worth the while for her little campaign stint! If you know what's best for you you'd better start talking!"

"Like I said," she stood defiantly, "I've already told you everything there is to know."

"Something going on here, Webb?" Latham entered the interrogation hall.

"Congresswoman," he rose from the table, "What a pleasant surprise."

"I'm sure it is," she commented, "what are you doing here, Webb?"

"What does it look like?" he snapped, "I'm conducting an interrogation."

"And why might you be doing that?" she narrowed her eyes at him.

"I've been appointed to investigate this case, Congresswoman."

"That's not something a Special Assistant does now is it?" she challenged.

"On some days I'm Special Assistant to the Under Secretary of State…other days I'm…_other _things," Webb replied.

"Why don't you go about your _other_ things then?" Bobbi suggested grudgingly, "And let me and the Major get down to some legal matters."

Webb looked at both women obviously peeved, "I'll come back later," he said, leaving in a huff.

***********

Daniel Chang's

Kensington Blvd

               Mark drummed his fingers on the wooden coffee table, idly sipping the warm scotch. It'd been nearly two hours now, and he was hoping they would be finished soon. 

               "Would you like another, sir?" the waiter asked.

               "No, I'm fine thanks," he replied.

               "Perhaps I could get you a magazine, some food maybe?"

               "It's quite alright, thank you."

               "Xiao Wu, bu yao da rao ke ren le (_don't disturb our guest anymore), bu ran ta ke neng hui tui ni bu ke qi (__or __he might not be as nice in a while)," a voice came from the entrance to the lounge and a good looking Eurasian man walked in. He was well groomed and had tasteful dressing. He grinned broadly as he came over to where Mark was._

               "shi de (_Yes), li xian shen (__Mr. Li),"_

               The waiter left the two men alone in the room.

               "Sokol," he said feigning wariness.

               Mark raised an eyebrow, "Is this the part where I silence you?"

               "Do try!" the other mocked.

               Both men began laughing and hugged, "Geez its good to see you…"

               "How long has it been, Elijah? Nearly nine years?"

               "Since the Ghana operation? …eleven man!"

Elijah Li – Mark had known him for time. Because of ties between Daniel Chang and his godfather, they had met occasionally. Elijah was second to Chang in his work. The last time they met however, Mark had to work with him for seven months in Ghana where he went undercover to root out 'faceless Ojo', the alledged leader of a militant group who had been buying stolen technology off the Russian blackmarket. Mark oversaw the analysis of the Elijah's findings. The agencies had tried to track him for years only to hit dead end after dead end. Each time they took someone into custody, it turned out that person was just another puppet put there to hide the real leader. Eventually though, they found the man, and Mark watched Elijah carry out the final stages of their mission. When he arrived at the site to confirm the mission status, he was horrified by what he saw, what Elijah was able to carry out due to his training. That was how the man earned his title in the intelligence world. They called him 'the Prophet', because he slaughtered hundreds of men, wiped an organization from the face on the earth in a single day, as one man. He ordered a housekeeping crew to the site once Mark had ensured all documents had been recaptured, till this day, the superstitious locals say that God's hand reached out of heaven and took away the evil men. Mark had to admit, as much as he liked the guy, he scared him sometimes.

               "My goodness…" the other commented, "I had been looking forward to seeing you."

               "I didn't know you'd be around, you've never been around the last few times we came…assignments?"

               The other nodded, "But I blew my knee on a sting op last august, took a while to recover, but no way I'm going out on the same frequency as before…"

               "August…what was it…Catona?"

               "Mmm-hmm," the other nodded, "the run was supposedly complete, some idiot decided to play Lazurus…tipped heads, both went right through…one nipped my thigh joint, the other completely shattered my knee cap," he said pointing at his right knee.

               "So you've been grounded?" Mark asked.

               "Missions directive…and I do a lot of the training for Bane."

               "It was expected," Mark replied, "…sooner or later."

               The other nodded agreeing, "I've had more than my fill of the action…oh, sorry, have a seat."

               The two men sat opposite one another and Elijah called out to the waiter, "Xiao Wu!" the waiter came to the door, "jiao Yi Quan kuai dian ba wo shuo fen fu de dong xi long hao _(tell Yi Quan to finish what I asked her to do_), ran hou ma shang dai shang lai (_and when she's done to bring it up immediately_)…jiao ta kuai yi dian (_tell her to hurry up)_." 

               "Should I be anticipating a change in command anytime soon?" Mark smirked.

               "Should _I_ be?" The other went along.

               "Now you know better than to ask me that…"

               "You keep your secret, I'll keep mine," Elijah retorted, "But seriously now, I didn't come here for nothing…"

               Mark sighed, "I am not surprised."

               "Oh you will be," the other replied, "You definitely will be."

*********

Underground Detention Facility

Unknown Location. Washington DC

               "Major, there's a reason people call me 'hardass Latham'…I like winning wars, especially those that aren't meant to be won. But I won't lie to you here, this is a long shot, and even I don't like our chances. We'll have to wait and see how this plays, he may or may not want to take the case…and I don't want to force it on him."

               "Is there anyone else we can turn to, Ma'am?" Kathryn Reese asked.

               "Well, Major…he _is_ the best, and him being the media face of the Navy…you'll want him on your side," Bobbi stated the facts, "It'll give you added leverage."

               "And if he declines?"

               "Hopefully it won't come to that, so you'd best pray hard things go our way."

               "Can't you _persuade him to take my case, Ma'am?" the Major implored._

               Bobbi sighed and replied, "Like I said, I don't want to force it on him…plus the JAG won't like this one bit. The Commander already has a reputation for being able to turn the most trivial escapade into a crusade."

               Kathryn paced around, and tried to explain, "Ma'am, Its not that I want to be pushy…it's just that with this…"

               "I know, Major, and believe it or not I sympathize…certain things…just aren't in my control."

               "Ma'am I'm grateful that you're willing to do this."

               Bobbi pressed her lips together, and replied, "Just make sure you're straight with me, Katt…I've got a lot on the line here...and I don't just mean my campaign."

               "I am telling you the truth, Ma'am."

               Bobbi studied her carefully, but wasn't ready to trust her, "For your sake I hope so."

**********

Naval Training Facility

Norfolk

               "That's _the_ girl?" Sturgis examined the photograph, wiping the water off the plastic to see through it more clearly.

               "Not bad huh?" Harm said as they walked quickly down the small slope to the parking lot.

               "Well yeah…" Sturg shrugged, "She's okay…"

               Harm looked to his right and took his wallet back, a little insulted, "What do you mean _'okay'_? Renee is more than _'okay'_!" And he wiped the inside plastic against his damp trench coat to dry it before slipping it into his pocket.

               _Its okay with me if it's okay with you…_

_Is it? Is it okay with you?_

               "Don't get me wrong, buddy…" Sturg replied, using one hand to shield his face from the rain, "she's okay…just not the kind of girl I pictured you settling down with. But hey! If she's okay for you then…_oh-kay_!" he added cheekily.

_You should hold on to that one, she's good for you._

"Excuse me! I happen to think she's pretty good for me, thank you very much!"

               _So its not okay…_

_               I didn't say that!_

               They continued towards the car and Harm unlocked the door.

               "This certainly wasn't the car I was expecting either…" Sturg purposely commented.

               "There's a lot you didn't expect now isn't there?" Harm threw back, making Sturgis all the more gratified. He continued, "And for your information, the vette was stolen…I'm in the midst of putting together another…okay?"

               "_Okay_!" Sturg burst into giggles as he got in.

               Harm glared as he turned on the ignition, stepping hard on the acceleration to emphasize how upset he was with Sturg, but the latter only laughed harder, much to the other's frustration.

               "Alright, alright…I'm just droppin' a little chaff…" Sturg, pat his shoulder.

               Harm's mind drifted briefly once more.

               _Your droppin' chaff, Hammer, Nice diversionary tactic, you almost got me going there._

               _It's not a diversionary tactic, Mac…I was there when Brumby asked you out…_

               "Harm…Harm!"

               "What?" Harm snapped out of his day-dream and turned to the man beside him.

               "I was asking you what you thought about the case…HARM!"

               The car swerved sharply, but continued skidding perpendicular along the wet road. 

***********

Roberts' Car

               Harriet pulled to a stop carefully. The rain was pelting down fiercely against the windscreen, causing a drumming sound inside the car. From the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Mac pull the trench coat tighter around herself, so she reached to turn up the heater. Even with the wipers on full, visibility was at a minimal, so traffic was moving a little slower. She held on to the steering wheel waiting for the traffic light to turn green.

"Geez, it's raining cats and dogs…" Mac shifted in her seat.

"I thought you were asleep," Harriet smiled.

"I think I was, for a couple of minutes," Mac replied.

"…funny dream…" she muttered before turning to Harriet, "How long have we been in the car…twenty minutes?"

"More like half an hour actually, "Harriet corrected, "Internal clocks' not working? You must really be sick…" she joked, earning herself a good glare.

Mac stretched a little, massaging her stiff neck, "Mmm…I can't believe the Admiral gave me tomorrow off…" she remarked.

"He's worried about you, Mac…he told me he saw you nearly passing out this morning," Harriet told the other as she stepped on the accelerator.

Mac stopped abruptly and looked towards the other wide-eyed, "H-he saw?" she stammered.

"Yeah," Harriet glanced at her peculiarly as she kept focus on the road ahead, "He saw Harm helping you, and you looked alright…so he didn't bother to check."

"Did he say anything else?"

Harriet shook her head, "Nope…but he was a little shocked when I told him you nearly passed out a second time…so he gave you the day off…and threw in the personal chauffer."

"Thanks, Harriet," Both ladies smiled at one another.

Mac turned toward her window and gazed idly at the passing cars and buildings outside, people rushing around for shelter from the cold November rain. The car stopped again at another traffic light, just outside some apartments. The one just next to them had the lights on, with the curtains drawn. They were only a couple of meters away from the block, so Mac could pretty clearly make out a couple inside, shuffling about trying to dry themselves off with some towels. The car began to move off once again, and somehow, she found her mind drifting back to that day, when she had stood outside, alone in the rain, watching him hold someone else in his arms. She seldom thought about it these days, she made every effort not to. Some things were just better left alone.

"So what were you dreaming about?" Harriet asked after observing her for a while. 

"Hmm…? Oh! Nothing…" Mac answered, "Just some silly thing…it's nothing really…"

_Nothing,_ Mac told herself.

**********

Daniel Chang's

Kensington Blvd

               "We pursued a '3-01' yesterday…"

               "Who?"

               "Minon."

               Mark was shocked, but said nothing.

               "He had been selling level six info to Heinsklov."

               "Raide and Hope…" he whispered in realization.

               Elijah nodded, "We detected an unauthorized withdrawal from main frame yesterday. Systems was able to put a trace on it, and the signature found uncovered other withdrawals that had gone undetected… these corresponded with previous losses. All sectors affected by the last transaction were subsequently evacuated, but we didn't get to Kuno in time, he was the first hit."

               "Unbelievable…" Mark held his breath as the truth sank in, "Our greatest enemy is from within…how did Bane take it?"

               "He had left the matter in my hands…"

               Mark remembered the earlier conversation, and asked the other staidly, "He was worried that he wouldn't follow through?"

               Elijah answered solemnly, "That he would."

               "It's been two years since Raide…two years, Eli! How is that possible?"

               "He did quite a job…we only stumbled across the last transaction. Apparently Minon had a son on a level six some time back…"

               "And Heinsklov had him?"

               Elijah glanced up and continued, "It was supposed to be the last installment, but the boy was already dead when the team arrived at Heinsklov's position."

               "The scum had no intention of releasing the boy…who conducted his father's execution?"

               The prophet paused, and then replied, "I did."

               Mark swallowed, "I take it was no accident that systems was able to trace him after all these years…It was the only to retrieve his son if Heinsklov had kept his word."

               "We believe that to be the case…"

               "Eli," a tall woman came in. It was obvious she wasn't one of the restaurant staff, at least she wasn't disguised as one.

               "Thank you," Elijah said to her as she handed him the small metal disk and proceeded out. Mark eyed the scene carefully and cracked his wrist, forbodence reflected in his movements, "So the million dollar question is…why are you telling me this?"

               "Because I told him to."

Another voice interrupted the conversation, but this time, Daniel and Nathan ambled in. They rose to greet them, Mark noting the stern look on his godfather's face. He opened his mouth to ask, but the old man patted him to be still, so he kept quiet as the lounge door was shut by staff outside, and Eli inserted the metal disk into a slot near the large television set mounted in the wall ahead. An operating system came up on screen, showing the map of a particular area in Russia Mark was familiar with. Eli grabbed a small remote from the shelf and returned to stand where the rest were, primarily directing the explanation to Mark.

"Yesterday while directive 3-01 was being carried out, a large transport of firearms and supplies was enroute from Millov Base to a Russian military camp located in the Yveskoff Valley…" Eli enlarged the map and got the program to mark specific locations, "less than a hundred miles west of Heinsklov's pinpointed location. The escort consisted of a platoon of 32 infantry and 2 helio escorts. This was their intended route."

               A bright green line appeared on the map, part of it showed that the Russian Transport would have come less than 30 miles from Heinsklov's position.

               "To go undetected by Heinsklov, our team had to enter through here and proceed on foot to the capture point. During inception an operative got his chute caught in a tree and was unable to take it down, but because of the urgency of the mission, we did not anticipate complications with the transport. Not long after entry the chute was spotted, so one helio left to investigate. We believe the two aviators followed the tracks all the way to Heinsklov's base…and witnessed the operation. They had to have witnessed Heinsklov's interrogation, because while the team conducted a sweep of the area, one of them made a grab for his laptop."

               Eiljah pressed a button on the remote, which brought up a window containing a video recording from one of the operatives. They couldn't see his face of course, but he was walking around a large jungle campsite. It had long barracks and containers pitched up all over, in a manner that was obvious they had worked around the terrain so as not to destroy their tree cover. Many parts of the campsite looked like it had been blown up; there were scraps of metal and wood all over the place, along with many, many lifeless bodies. He was yelling some orders to the rest of the operatives, two of them pointing rifles at a group that was squatting on the ground, obviously those who had surrendered; there weren't many of them. One of the men guarding the prisoners yelled suddenly and they could see the video snap briefly as gunfire was heard. The video panned almost violently around to see the back of two Russian soldiers running from a large open air tent. The operations leader was running towards them, stopping momentarily to examine the tent as he ran past. This revealed some more dead bodies, along with one tied to a chair, his head slumped over. 

"Heinsklov…" Mark murmured inaudibly.

They heard the man shout that the laptop had been taken, his heavy breathing apparent as the camera jerked all over the place, gunshots and shouting coming from the men who pursuing the two soldiers through the woods. The two soldiers only had hand pistols and turned fire some sparse shots as they ran, but they were too far for Mark to make out who they were. After a few more seconds of pursuit, the video cut to the end. There was a small clearing ahead with a helicopter in the middle; you could just make out the harness of a chute dangling from a tree further up. Now you could make out that one of the soldiers was carrying what appeared to be a laptop. One turned to fire a couple of shots as they neared the helio; there was a shout just before the video snapped to the ground for a moment, then to a bloody thigh. It panned unsteadily up again but you could tell from the angle that the operative was in a prone position, groaning. The barrel of a rifle came up against the picture of two men scrambling into the helio, one running to the drivers' seat and the other returning fire at another operative who was reaching them. The barrel recoiled consecutively several times and then there was another shout as the Russian soldier firing went down on his back inside the helio as it took off. An operative had his upper torso inside, but the former scrambled up holding his shoulder and kicked the fellow back down, letting him drop about three or so meters. There was cursing and swearing as the helio sped off.

Elijah clicked a button to stop the video and the screen reverted to the map, "The transport stopped further down at this point and the helicopter rejoined them, and that is where they were hijacked. When the team arrived at the site the two helicopters along with one jeep had been blown away; twenty-one dead, three of which were aviators, one the man who was shot in the shoulder earlier. The area was searched but they found no trace of the laptop…I had the team extracted before the military arrived on the scene…and we sent in a tracker…"

               A new point came up onscreen, "There is a sizeable Chechnya rebel force stationed here, that has not yet been discovered by Russian army intelligence. Our tracker gave us a live video feed of the camp…" another video came up, along with parts of analysis that had been rendered during the recon, "but we were not to find evidence of the laptop at the campsite. We did however, find the aviator who had taken it."

               The video feed cut to fenced off area where the remaining Russian soldiers were being held, some wounded. The computer zoomed in on a particular soldier whose side was facing the tracker, as the area was enlarged you could see he was the only aviator in the lot. A boxed appeared at his head, and was enhanced once, twice, three times.

               Mark gasped.

**********

Underground Detention Facility

Unknown Location, Washington DC

               Clayton walked down the corridor and into the cafeteria. There were two detainees sitting at separate tables having their lunch, each with their own guard and assigned agent, and some employees sitting around on their break. He stood near the door at a corner, continuing his conversation with the SecNav on the cell phone.

"No, Sir, we haven't ascertained that for certain…the Major stuck to the story….she's with Congresswoman Latham at the moment…No, Mr. Secretary, I assure you there's nothing to be unduly concerned about, Congresswoman Latham is simply discussing legal options with the Major. ….Sir, the Congresswoman and myself are communicating all information, no holds barred. And all conversation in the facility are taped, if there's anything to know, I will know about…Correction, Sir, YOU will know about it…Absolutely, sir, you'll updated regularly…yes, sir, yes sir…yes, sir…goodbye… ….hello? Sir?" Clayton heard nothing but the engaged tone and grumbled.

               "Trouble, Mr. Webb?"

               Clayton rolled his eyes in annoyance at the man beside him and replied, "Nothing I can't handle, Furginnson."

               The latter smirked condescendingly at him, so Clayton turned away muttering to himself, "Jerk…"

               "Did you say something, Webb?"

               Clayton turned to the man and smiled, trying to make pointless conversation, "No, nothing at all, Agent…so what are you doing here? Break?"

               Agent Furginnson narrowed his eyes at Clayton and answered, "Lunch for the Major," then looked away again. The cook came out the kitchen door with a metal tray with some utensils. He passed them across the counter to Furginnson.

               "Ah, how nice of you to bring it to her," Clayton commented, letting his eyes look toward the other inmates having theirs under watchful eyes.

               "Smashing." The other man replied.

               Clayton glanced over the counter at slop in various trays, and then looked at the cook, "Special order?"

               The cook looked at the contents of the tray he'd carried out and handed to Furginnson, and then gruffly mumbled a sarcastic reply, "Yeah, low fat." Then he turned and went back through the door he came. Both Agent Furginnson and Webb were annoyed but didn't pursue the matter.

               "Tell your friends: Its nice to know my tax dollars are being put to good use making sure the world's terrorists are kept safe and eating right," Furginnson took the tray and headed towards the detention cells. He greeted Bobbi as she came in, "Ma'am."

               Bobbi nodded back, taking note of the look on Clayton's face as the other left, "I take it you two know each other."

               "Know him? He's 'pain-in-the-ass' from-hell!" Clay remarked.

"What do you know?" Bobbi mused, "God is fair after all."

               He shot a glare at her for the comment, and then asked, "So how did it go?"

               "Is it safe to talk here?" she asked.

               Clay nodded.

               Bobbi crossed her arms and sighed, "Why don't you and I have lunch."

               They turned simultaneously to study the assorted gunk behind the counter. She raised an eyebrow and looked at the cook who came out from the kitchen to serve them. She corrected, "On second thought, how about just coffee? Black."

**********

Daniel Chang's

Kensington Blvd

               Elijah switched off the equipment while the others went to sit down. He went over to the door and whispered some instructions to the guards before closing it again. Then he came over to sit down next to Mark.

               "So what now?" Mark dared to ask, knowing what the answer would be.

               "They are already in the process of moving the prisoners up North to proper detention facilities…"

               "And you want me to leak the information to Russian intelligence," Mark finished.

               Elijah studied the other and replied, "It's either we do it that way, or the 'hand of God' makes another appearance…"

               Mark swallowed at his morbid sense of humor and the other continued, "And we are not dealing with superstitious locals in this case, Mark...there will be too many questions. We don't know how many he may have told."

               "He wouldn't…"

               "You don't know that, Mark."

               Marked breathed and looked at his godfather, who gave him a nod in returned. He sat back and asked, "What do you want me to do?"

               "Leak the information through whatever means necessary…I don't forsee you will have problems requesting charge of the mission? I thought so. Make sure that after the rescue is made the first person to talk to him, is _you_. Ascertain the whereabouts of the laptop, and if anyone else knows the information. I believe he _will tell you the truth?" Elijah directed the question at Mark, but looked to Daniel for his go ahead, and looked a little disagreeable that his mentor approved._

               He turned his attention back to Mark, "We have full confidence his testimony will be the truth."

               "And after?" Mark and Nathan glanced up at one another.

               Elijah answered, "We retrieve the laptop, and he signs the standard confidentiality contract."

               "More like a life sentence," Mark remarked.

               "He has a choice," Elijah reminded him, looking sympathetic for Mark's sake.

               The other exhaled heavily then asked, "Those who know…?"

               "All will have to be handled according to standard directives," Daniel stated.

               Elijah glanced at Nathan then back at Mark, "As Bane has said, we will handle it according to standard directives."

**********

Underground Detention Facility

Unknown Location, Washington DC

Clay listened to the disgusting gurgling noise the coffee maker made, then took the two Styrofoam cups from the guy behind the counter handed him, muttering, "Is it low fat?"

               The man raised an eyebrow questioningly at him, but Clayton simple ignored it and walked towards Bobbi who was already seated a table in a corner. He set the cups down before positioning himself opposite her. 

               "So what did she tell you?" he said bringing the cup to his lips and staring aimlessly ahead. He was used to the bit of nausea that accompanied him constantly. The price you paid for being perpetually robbed of sleep your entire career. The strong bitter taste had a slightly sour edge to it, making him feel worse, but he consoled himself with the fact that it was because the coffee was strong, and in a couple of minutes or so whatever nausea he felt would be completely dispelled.

               "Nothing you haven't already heard or got on tape…" Bobbi answered.

               Clay snickered to himself and then asked, "So what do you think?"

               The other gave careful thought, and replied, "She seems forthcoming enough…yet…"

               "Yet?"

               "…she seems to be hiding something..."

               "Oh? How do you figure that?"

               "Call it women's intuition…but I could be wrong. I find it hard to believe that one of your kind could just wake up fed up one morning and decide that maybe it's a good day to blow the roof on everything."

               "Mmm…you'll be surprised, Congresswoman…"

               "Don't tell me you've…have you?" she stared at him skeptically.

               Clay eyed her as he drank the last mouthfuls of coffee, and replied nonchalantly, "Everyday."            

Bobbi was unbelieving, but the other continued, "But she has been pretty consistent around both you and I, so either she's telling the truth, or she's just really really good…either way, I'll talk with her more once she's had her lunch…"

She nodded and began telling him about legal matters that she's discussed with Kathryn Reese earlier; she figured he would want to know what she was planning to do. Clay raised his cup getting the cooks' attention, signing that he wanted one more…he was feeling better already. The cook acknowledged and got down to preparing a second cup, and Clay began wondering where the other fellow had gone, he didn't recall ever being briefed about a change in shift in the middle of lunch….then paranoia began to set in as the gears in his head started putting two and two together. He rose to from his seat.

"Clay, are you listening to me?" Bobbi frowned.

He ignored her and yelled to the cook, "Where's your other man?"

When the other stared at him blankly, Clay yelled one more time "Where's your other man??" and started towards the counter. Bobbi stood calling to Clayton and asking what was wrong. Everyone else had their eyes on the commotion.

The cook stammered uneasily as Clay came running towards him, "He went to take a leak…"

"How long ago?" Clay shouted, "HOW LONG??"

"About twenty minutes…"

"Shit. Get the Doc…tell him it's a poisoning case! Hurry up!" Clay yelled at the MP standing by the door as reached for his revolver and ran down the hallway. Bobbi followed after.

"Furginnson! Where the hell is Furginnson?" he yelled at the two agents standing in the hallway laughing.

"I'm here!" he immerged from the room opposite Kathryn's cell.

"Open the Major's cell!"

"What the…"

"Don't think! Just do!" Clay shouted as his running echoed down the hallway.

As he neared the men, he saw Furginnson slide the key card through the lock.

"Shit!" Furginnson yelled and ran in, "Get the medic! Now!"

The two other agents tumbled past Clayton and grabbed hold of the frame of the cell opening, sliding inside to a stop. He dropped to the ground helping Furginnson to get Reese to her feet to try to induce vomiting. She gagged a couple of times; obviously in pain. And then threw up on the floor, there was blood. Bobbi stumbled in just in time to see some red splash onto the floor, and she froze, going pale.

"Where are the medics?" Clayton yelled as the two men settled the woman back onto the floor.

"They're…coming…-" she could barely say.

"Move aside, Ma'am!" the doctor pushed her roughly as three others rolled the apparatus in after him. Clay and Furginnson stepped back.

The doctor made some quick examinations and swabbed a piece of cotton over the blood and handed it to one of the personnel, "Get the food as well, take it down to the labs! We need to get her to OR now!"

They hoisted the major onto the mattress and out the door. As they went passed, Kathryn eyes fixated almost lifeless on Bobbi,

"I told you I was telling the truth…"

**********

Bud and Harriet's House

               Rrrrrr-iiiiiiiiiinngggg!

               "Alright! Hold your horses!" Harriet tumbled into the living room throwing her keys onto the couch, "Mac, why don't you go up to your room…you know which one…"

"Yeah, no problem, honey," Mac replied as shut the front door and headed up, trudging heavily up the carpeted the stair way, down the hall and into the first room on the right. She dropped her overnight bag just next to the doorway and took a couple of paces to the bed, tumbling face down into the mattress.

Rrrrrr-iiiiiiiiiinngggg!

               "Mmm…" she moaned into the heavy blanket covering, her head throbbing. She yelled to downstairs, "Harriet! Do you want me to get it?"

               Harriet stuffed the bag of Ben and Jerry's into the freezer and slammed the refrigerator door shut, "It's okay, Mac! I've got it!" 

               Mac hardly heard the last part of the sentence before she dropped off to sleep…

Downstairs, Harriet ran out the kitchen and snatched up the receiver, "Hello?" 

**********

Daniel Chang's

               "Hello? ... … … what? Shit… How is it possible? …Fine, alright. I'll tell him." Mark flipped the cell phone shut, "I'm sorry Elijah, but could you excuse us?"

               "Certainly." The man rose respectfully, showing that he took no offence. In their line of work, everyone was on a need to know basis. He quickly exited and closed the door behind him.

               "What's the matter?" Nathan asked.

               "There was a breech in security. Our primary factor was nearly compromised."

               "Present status?" Daniel asked.

               "Barely 'Active'. She's in the O.R., no word yet."

               "How?" Nathan enquired.

               "Cook took a leak and never came back." Mark replied frustrated.

               Daniel and Nathan looked on calmly and the latter assured his godson, "No sense worrying about it now. It was foreseeable. We were prepared."

               "Yes, but I had hoped to prevent the senerio from even occurring." Mark grumbled.

               "Is an evaluation being done?" Daniel asked.

               "He'll call as soon as he's done," Mark replied.

               "Well then, we will wait," Nathan concluded, "Meanwhile I think you have a plane to catch."

The three men stood as Mark put on his trench coat, turning to Daniel, "Sir…"

               "Don't worry, Mark, your godfather is in safe hands," the man assured him.

               Mark then looked to his godfather, "I _will take care of it."_

               The old man nodded, and motioned him to be on his way. When Mark had left, Nathan turned his back to the door and sighed dejectedly.

               "I am sorry, old friend," Daniel expressed.

               "It is I who should be apologizing," Nathan replied, "You have given your whole family to this life… I should be thanking you for the compromise you are making for me."

               Daniel consoled him, "You have tried your best."

               "Maybe I've tried to hard and ended up losing all," the other laughed ruefully, "As I say, sometimes the choices we make…only delay what is inevitable." 

***********

Bud and Harriet's residence

               She was standing by the road. It was raining. She had sweats on and they clung to every inch of her body, cold and heavy. The rain was dripping down from her hair and over her lashes, onto her skin and down her cheeks. There was a midnight black car, flushed to a tree by the side of the road. The drivers' side had caved in, smashed against the trunk. A large branch was lodged amongst warped metal and shattered glass, part of it on the roof and part of it on the hood. She stepped carefully, fearfully along the tarred road, slowly making her way towards the wreckage. 

               _A flash of the front of a large truck bellowing noise and heat from its engine…_

               As she moved nearer she could make out that part of the branch had crashed through the windscreen. The front seats looked mangled. She moved closer.

               _A flash of a muted shout, hands throwing the steering wheel to the left, before they instinctively flew up to shield._

               She could see a hand dangling lifeless outside the window. She moved closer.

               _Screeching…the sound of a car screeching…the smell of burnt rubber and screeching, black tread marks burnt into the tar…rain falling._

               She moved closer. Another person in the passenger seat.

               _Shouts, screeching, then impact. Branch falling, shattered glass all over. _

               She was near. She came closer.

               _Broken glass, blood…car alarm ringing._

               She moved closer.

               _Blood trickling down a brow…car alarm ringing_

               She moved further front, her heart palpitating.

               _A face…his face_

               She screamed at the face jerked back.

               "HARM!" Mac roused suddenly, her eyes flying wide open.

               "Sarah…" Harriet hurried in from the doorway holding on to her shoulders.

               Mac tried to steady her trembling as she lay on her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows as she rubbed her face, "Just a dream…" she whispered, and then asked, "How long was I asleep?"

               "You've only been in here less than a couple of minutes…I just put down the phone…" Harriet replied soothing her back.

               Mac groaned.

               "Mac…" Harriet started.

               "Yeah…" she rubbed her eyes and looked up.

               "I just got off the phone with the Admiral…" Harriet swallowed, "…the commanding officer at Norfolk called…Harm and Commander Turner…"

               "Harriet?"

"…they were in an accident."

***********__


	7. Book 1: River Crossings - Chapter 6

Beyond the Rivers of Jordan

Book 1: River Crossings

**_Chapter 6_**

****

JAG Internal Network

Log entry no: 20017412__

"Every time I think I've put the pieces of my life back together, somebody comes along and jumbles them back up."

User ID: -unsigned-

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

2004 ZULU

               The elevators doors opened and she tumbled down the corridor. Her steps were so shaky Harriet worried that she would fall over.

               _Don't be sorry, be honest. Why are you marrying me, Sarah?_

_               Then why, in crisis, am I always the last one you look to?_

               She could feel her vision clouding, but she kept going, even if it was limply, Harriet calling after her.

               _You're running, Mac, what's going on?_

_               Let me in, tell me how you're feeling!_

               She could hear the words, that 'the lines were down' and 'the Admiral can't get Norfolk', but she didn't know what they meant, she just kept running.

               _Mac, the Admiral called, Harm and Commander Turner…_

_               …they had an accident._

               She ran past the desks, past Bud who came out of his office to see what the commotion was about, past the rest of the deserted office. She didn't see any of it.

               _Don't make a promise you can't keep_

_               I haven't yet._

               She couldn't breathe properly, but she kept going, guilt driving her feet forward. All the while her own voice, crying out inside her head, the word 'no' over and over again.

               _We're getting to good at saying goodbye_

_               Why goodbye and not good luck._

               AJ was sitting in his room trying to finish his work, but got distracted by the noise from outside. He looked up at the clock on the wall. Eleven thirty. He muttered crossly, "Who the hell is around…" tossing his glasses onto the table and heading towards the door. He yanked the door open and was about to shout; but he was too stunned at having Mac lunge straight at him.

               "Admiral…where is he…you have to tell me where he is…" she rambled deliriously.

               Harriet ran over and caught hold of Mac and apologized, "I'm sorry Admiral, I told her the lines were down but she insisted on coming over…"

               AJ grabbed Mac and shook her trying to knock some sense into her system, but she would stop. She just kept regurgitating her words that didn't make two cents worth of logic.

               "Mac…what the…you're soaked!" he exclaimed as his bare hands came into contact with her dripping sweats.

               "She ran out in the rain, sir, I caught up to her in the car…" Harriet caught up to them and tried to explain.

               AJ's mouth hung open in astonishment, but did his best to calm the near delirious Mac down, "Sarah…I'm sure Harm is fine…Norfolk will call as soon as they have word."

"You don't understand, sir…I don't know…where is…"

She stepped back half a step, glazed, and then tried to continue, "I need to know…"

Then another time, pushing away from AJ slightly,  "…where he…is…"

The energy then drained from her eyes. AJ swept her up and carried her into his office, setting her down on the sofa, "Harriet, go get a towel and some dry clothes…Lt. Roberts could you please put a call through to Dr. Walden…tell her its an emergency…"

"Yes, sir!"

AJ at the sneakers and socks with some difficulty before he finally got them off, and then ambled briskly over to the wooden cabinet nearby to pulled out a thick blanket and pillow, leaving them on the coffee table. Then he got started on the wet sweats, gently pulling each arm out, skillfully extricating the unconscious girl, pushing the hair carefully out of her face. He felt her hands; they were cold and clammy, as were her arms. But despite the cold dampness of the rain on her skin, he could feel the fever burning under her forehead. AJ shook his head and threw the blanket open, pulling it over her, and rubbing the arms underneath trying to warm them.

"Oh Sarah…" He lamented as he got up to pull off his slightly damp blazer. AJ left it on the rack as Harriet came in and breezed past. He loosened his tie and began rolling up the white sleeves. Harriet pulled away the blanket to reveal Mac clad only in a white tank top and panties. AJ swallowed and tried to explain, "She was wet, so I er…"

"Its okay, Admiral," Harriet simply replied and started using the towel to dry Mac off.

"I'll go outside while you finish up here," he told her.

AJ walked towards the mess to get some coffee. Bud caught up with him on the way.

"Dr. Walden is on her way, sir,"

"Thank you, Lt...there's no one else around…?"

"No, sir, just the four of us…"

"That's good…" AJ attempted to loosen his neck stiff neck, "Bud, we'd want to keep this to ourselves…"

"Of course, sir," Bud replied and then went on his way.

AJ sighed. He wasn't sure what to do just yet.

***********

Underground Detention Facility

Unknown Location. Washington, DC

               Furginnson lumbered over to where Clay stood and handed him the computer print out, "Tox report."

               He glanced through it briefly, swearing, "Inconceivable…'We're impenetrable', ...those damn fools!"

               "For once I actually agree with you."

               Clay studied the other briefly before watching the forensics team work the scene, "How long more is she going to be in the O.R.?"

               "They're not sure; we only got to her just in time…chances are slim. What about here?"

               "Forget it…this guy wouldn't have left shit for us to work with, this is just pointless procedure that needs to be done."

               Their ear pieces buzzed a bit, "Mr. Webb…"

               "Yeah!" Clayton answered irritably into his wrist mike while Furginnson listened in.

"…he rerouted the circuit board, the video feed wasn't on loop, it was being run at a slower shutter speed. The difference is so miniscule that unless we were sharp enough, it's unlikely anyone would have picked it up."

               "Damn it!" Furginnson swore.

               Clay glanced at the man then continued, "Why is that, Mr. Higgins?"

               "Because sir, the system was on a timer…the moment it ran out the feed would have snapped back to normal and realigned itself with bios time."

"Hmm…how long did this go on for?"

"Hold on, sir…seven minutes forty five, sir."

"Hmm," Clay considered, and then continued, "Alright, get the system hooked back up…"

               "Sir, he screwed it up good, surveillance won't up at a maximum for another five hours or so."

               "Damn it…" Clay seethed, "How badly will we be compromised?"

               "I think we'll cope, sir."

Clay gave Furginnson a look and the other nodded, "I'll get on it…" and started back down the hall.

               "Furginnson!" Clay shouted after him, "Put the facility up at NS-CO 3!"

               The other turned to him looking astounded, "NS-CO 3?"

               Clayton closed the gap between them, and discreetly flashed the plastic card under his blazer, pretending to take out his cell phone and talking in it audibly for everyone else to hear, "Yes, sir, Mr. Secretary, I understand." Clay kept his sights straight at the man in front of him and clipped the phone close, making sure everyone in the hallway could here, "By order of the Undersecretary of State, Mr. Furginnson, bring us up to NS-CO 3."

               "Yes, sir_, Mr._ Webb," the other beleaguered and continued on his path.

"Higgins…" Clayton spoke back into his wrist mike.

               "Yes, sir?"

               "Make it two hours…"

               "Sir…?"

               "Two, Mr. Higgins. You will have personnel to assist you. Just get the job done."

               "Yes, sir."

               Clayton pulled out his cell phone once more; this time pressing the speed-dial button, making sure no one was too nearby. The other end picked up. Clay kept his eyes out around him and spoke quietly into the receiver,

               "It's me…We may have a possible 3-01 …yes, three, I didn't want to cause too much alarm, I may be wrong…uh-huh, uh-huh…what the hell are you doing there? … … …what?! This complicates things… alright. I call you again when I know more." 

               The other side put down and Clay pressed another button, "…Hey, …yeah, that's right. Get me a crew within the half hour…yes, systems analysts. And run the check for precautions' sake. …James Maurice Furginnson…no need, just call when you're through."

               Clay took a deep breath then went down the corridor toward the cafeteria.

He began pacing around near the food counter, talking to himself…something along the lines of, "Yada yada blah blah blah…jerk." Bobbi wondered if he knew he was making a complete fool of himself, oblivious to the other agents going about their investigations. He shushed her when she asked what he was doing, much to her annoyance, and after a few more seconds of incoherent babbling, he walked over to the table he had sat with her earlier, suddenly slowing his pace midway before he got there.

"Webb…" she demanded impatiently.

"SHH! In a minute!" he stopped her, intently watching his watch.

She let out a cry of frustration and moved away to let him finish whatever nonsense he was up to.

               Clayton stayed there just over a minute, then began running through moving back to the counter and subsequently running down the hallway. She took her time to follow him, watching him go back into the cell. He re-immerged just as she reached it.

               "Seven minutes-forty five!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

               "Mind telling me what that was about? Or at least what the hell is going on?" Bobbi asked point blank.

               Clayton felt almost sympathetic towards her, and he showed it a little.

               "Don't feel sorry for me," Bobbi muttered grudgingly, "I'm a big girl."

               "In a bigger world," he replied, "You need to talk to someone…"

               "I need to talk to you," she returned more demandingly, "So you going to fill me in?"

               Clayton sighed, and decided to let her save a little of her pride, for now. He took her gently by the elbow and pulled her back along the hallway towards the cafeteria, "Let's take a walk."

               "So who's the bigger fish this time round?"

               Clay chuckled a little at her deduction, and replied, "What makes you think its bigger fish?"

               "Clayton, I am familiar with what NS-CO is…"

               "Oh you are, are you?" Clayton pretended to scoff.

               "National Security-Compromise Override," she answered, "So what are you not telling me?"

               Clayton led her past the staff, behind the food counter and into the kitchen, and then down some steps into a basement where the food stores were kept. He opened the deep freezer and pointed inside, "This is where the body of the other cook on duty was found," he closed the door once more and continued walking down the corridor, explaining, "Now you know there's only one main entrance to this facility, and to get to that you have to go through the CIA headquarters…where you're screened for weapons and what not a second time even after the first…the other exit is the one that leads to the courthouse….

               "I know, Webb," she interrupted.

               He eyed her with distinct annoyance and continued, "What you don't know is that there are two other ways out from this facility that are not shown on any blueprint or map…except those exclusively available to certain high level individuals. Now I'm not telling you where the other one is, but our Don Juan couldn't have come in through that one because….because he couldn't. The only other way he could have come in undetected, was through here. They came to the end of the hallway to a dead end.

               "What are you talking about, it's a…"

               Clay ignored her and pulled out the plastic card he had flashed Furginnson earlier, simply moving it across the surveillance camera on top, making sure a pale violet beam from the base of the camera fell directly onto its surface. There was a short pause, and then the wall slid away to reveal a lighted passageway.

               "Thank you, gentlemen," Clay directed at the camera before stepping in, "…you coming?" he turned to the other.

               Bobbi shook her head and followed, muttering, "Who pulled you out of a James Bond…"

**********

AJ's Office

JAG Headquarters

               AJ leaned on his desk watching Sydney go about her business; he couldn't deny the keen sense of melancholy washing over him as he sipped his coffee.

               "I appreciate you coming down here, Sydney."

               The other pulled the stetascope from her ears glancing at him briefly before returning her equipment to its case, "Don't mention it."

               He pushed off from the table and strode over. Sydney watched him bend over, and tenderly place his hand over Mac's forehead.

               "Has she been under a lot of stress lately?" she queried.

               AJ simply smiled half-heartedly and asked, "Is she going to be alright?"

               Sydney continued packing and replied, "Well, nothing a little rest and medicine won't cure. I had to give her a jab to help with the fever…I'm shocked she hasn't been to a doctor. It's the common flu…but some people do get a little delirious and start rambling when they have fevers, so that's nothing to worry about. The thing you should worry about…is the stress."

               She clipped the bulky leather bag closed and then asked, "Did Annie give her any pills since she got back?"

               "From Indonesia? Yeah." AJ nodded and tried to remember the report, "…can't remember what in particular."

               "Has she been taking them?"

               AJ shrugged in reply.

               "Hmm…" Sydney expected her guess was probably the same as his, and she shook her head, "Sarah…" then turned to AJ, "someone needs to talk to this marine of yours, AJ, she's not indestructible."

               "I will," AJ assured her.

               "No news on Harm yet?" Sydney said walking towards the door.

               "Lines are down, don't expect we'll hear anything for a while."

               "I'll go down to the infirmary, get whatever she needs…and drop of the blood sample I took, just in case."

               "Shall I walk you?" AJ attempted. But Sydney shifted uneasily, so he corrected, "Or I could send Bud…"

               "No," she answered, "Its fine, I can handle a few pills."

               AJ closed the door after her and sighed glumly. He strolled over to where Mac was and sat on the coffee table beside her, pulling the blanket over the pale and lithe figure. She murmured incoherently a couple of times, and shifted fitfully in her sleep, almost as though her dreams were tortured and tormented. AJ put down his coffee and placed one hand on her forehead, the other on the blanket, over the spot where her hands were. She gradually settled down. There was a knock at the door and AJ tilted his head up to see who it was, he motioned for Harriet to come in.

               "How's she doing, sir?"

               "She'll be fine Lt…"

               "Sir…Ms Peterson...Renee is here."

               AJ looked up at her more intently and then asked, "Did Bud explain everything?"

               Harriet nodded, "Everything, sir…she's going to wait here for him."

               "How is she doing, Lt.?"

               "I was going to ask you, Admiral…" Harriet stared quizzically.

               "_Renee, Lt."_

               "Oh! …As well as can be expected, sir."

               "Hmm…" he grunted pensively, "Harriet, does she know that Mac…"

               "Oh no, sir! I er…told her that er Bud was working late….and the Col. Is staying with me…so I came down to see Bud…and she tagged along…and er…er….she doesn't know, sir," she assured him.

               "Alright then," AJ felt a little relief, and then remembered, "And Mic?"

               Harriet's eyes went wide as she replied, "I completely forgot, Admiral…he supposed to call the house…right about now, sir! Should I call him, Admiral? I mean…should I…"

               "Calm down, Lt…" AJ considered carefully for a few moments and then answered, "Let's keep this from Brumby, …for now..." he sighed, "for her sake."

**********

Passage way 150m below sea level

1250m from the Detention Facility

2134 ZULU

               "So you think this was an attempt to cover up the fact that the government has been involved in espionage against other nations?" Bobbi said, impatiently following after him. 

Clayton kept going and answered, "There will always be a thousand Kathryn Reeses, Bobbi. No matter how hard we try to cover up, there will always be people out there who will find proof that the government has been involved in undercover intelligence operations, espionage against other nations…" he kept a steady pace and continued, "but it will never change the fact that we will continue doing so no matter how many operations are eventually uncovered. People don't have to like it, but its necessity to survive. It's this country's insurance that we will wake up to another morning as a superpower of the world."

Bobbi tugged at her heels uncomfortably, so he stopped for a moment to give her time to adjust her footwear. When he was sure she was done, he strided forward once more, "Anyway, an occasional a bump in road is a good thing. Human beings are built such that they will never be satisfied living in perfection, in Utopia. They need something to believe in, they need to believe that 'the truth is out there'. We keep on our toes and we give the people a couple of interesting stories to keep them occupied."

               "So what makes Kathryn Reese such a threat to_ your people?" she asked, listening to the steady beat her heels created along the steel tunnel._

               Clayton scoffed at the question and replied, "What makes you think she's a threat to _my people?_

               "If she's not a threat to _you then who?" Bobbi said, nearly tripping over a kink in the floor. She grumbled, "Is this thing ever going to end?"_

               He ignored the later comment and carried on, "Think about it Congresswoman, what would it mean if Kathryn Reese was acquitted of espionage against the United States of America? Someone was obviously spying on someone else…the world needs someone to blame…"

               "The US would be the guilty…but I thought you said you didn't really care…"

               "_We don't…" Clay emphasized, "but why do you think General Pietnam is so keen to vouch for Reese? What would happen if the United States was guilty of espionage against the Burmese?"_

               "US Millitary presence in Myanmar would probably be suspended…Pietnam would become the major military power in the country…" Bobbi began aligning herself with Clayton's frequency.

               "Correct." Clay told her.

               "And Pietnam is rumored to be no better than the Burmese Communist Militia that we drove out…is that true?"

               "He is a brutal militant, yes, but he supports literacy amongst the people, and frankly that's of far greater concern to US interests. We wouldn't want them digressing back to…you should know, you've been pushing for education across this country."

               "Mmm…if the people had gone on like that for another decade or so, they could have ended up with total illiteracy…alienation from the rest of civilization. But which brings me back to the question? Why Kathryn Reese?"

               "Not Kathryn Reese, Congresswoman…the consequences of this trial. Think smaller."

               Bobbi frowned, "Explain."

               "General Pietnam is also rumored…note that I say rumored…to be one of the major contenders in the growing drug trade in Myanmar…"

               "So is Nyumgong…but he's backed by Washington…" Bobbi thought hard and then stopped short in realization, "He's trafficking…"

               "I said 'rumored'!" he warned her.

               "And _your people…"_

               "_My people said nothing of the sort…"_

               "If the UN pursues her allegations…Nyumgong will easily be removed and Pietnam would take over as the dominant power in the drug market!" Bobbi exclaimed as she and Webb got into an elevator. She was relieved that the long walk was finally coming to an end, but was more interested in the new findings, "Do you realize what this means?"

               "_My people_ remind the congresswoman that _we_ said 'rumored'" Clayton answered as the door closed shut. The could feel the bit of pressure in their ears as the elevator made a swift climb.

               "Oh come on Webb, in Washington, rumors are as good as the real deal…" she stated plainly, "my team has been pushing a review of the 'war-on-drugs' policy, do you realize what this could mean for my campaign?"

               "Is that all you really care about, Latham?"

               "Of course not!" Bobbi defended.

               Clayton half regretted giving her the info. He had given it to her as an added bonus, but now he wasn't so sure that he could trust her with it.

               "Bobbi," he reminded her, "you didn't hear this from me…in fact, you didn't hear it at all, are we understanding each other?"

               "Don't worry…" Bobbi was a little offended, "I know how to handle myself."

               He studied her intently and then replied, "I'm trying my best to trust you here…"

               Bobbi was almost flattered by his last statement, but before she could reply, he said, "Now listen, when we step out this door, don't look surprised, don't look shocked…look like you know what's going on…"

               "But I don't -.." she argued.

               "Are we clear?" he persisted.

               "But I have no idea…"

               "ARE we clear??" he raised his voice.

               "Like the palm of my hand and the back of your ass," she answered evenly, trying to hide her anger.

               He frowned sternly at her as the elevator came to a stop and the doors began to open. Clay saw the glint in her eyes begin to change, but he caught her by the arm and pulled her out, reminding her just under his breath, "Remember…like the back of my ass, Congresswoman."

               They continued walking. Clay shook his head in annoyance, leering, "…the back of my ass. Ha."

*********

AJ's Office

JAG Headquarters

She could still feel him standing there. Her gaze was low so she could only make out a faint reflection of uniform on the cold glass, her eyes catching the glimpse of khaki behind her. He stood a considerable distance…at the door. He didn't dare come closer. She wouldn't look back at him, but instead had held fast to the cold medallions in her fist, crushing it into her skin; that way they could pretend he wasn't there, and convince herself that she hadn't let him in, that she wasn't guilty.

_He's my best friend,_ she defended.

She tried to reconstruct this memory, imagining that her present will was an invisible force with hands that could hold him back, push him back, deep into the recesses of non-existence. But her desperate struggles were useless in trying to prevent what was past. He continued drawing closer, slowly, closer, slowly, closer, untouched by the invisible, his mere reflection expanding till she could see nothing, only feel him inches away, burning his presence into her soul. She had shut her eyes, half hoping that maybe he would disappear, or that she'd wake up to find it never happened.

               _We never started…we never happened._

With every passing moment she felt more and more helpless, overpowered the re-enactment that was unfolding in her mind. She felt that same weakening fear – the anticipation of his touch. Why she feared it she didn't know, he had only come to lend her the support she so needed. Yet when his finger tips just barely grazed her waist, even through the cloth of her blouse her heart had jumped so hard she thought she could have died as the trembling overtook her. His hand inched ever so gently, carefully, but only prolonged the pain as his fingers splayed themselves over her stomach until the tip of his thumb rested right at the crevice of her rib cage. His hand was unmoving, like it was meant to be there always, holding her. Her hands were shaking as they tried to find rest their rest on him. Slowly. Slowly. Then they touched, and then release.

_We did nothing wrong_, she defended.

That night, in that instant, her entire being had fallen into him.

_He's my friend, Mac covered her face with her hands._

 He had wrapped himself around her, his hand firm and unmoving from where it had been. She could still remember how hot her tears felt on her cheeks and his arms, running along its sinews, the cloth of their uniforms folding and twisting as she struggled, her blouse half untucking itself from the waist band of her skirt, her body wrecking itself in anguish. All the while he held on to her, pulling her towards him with all he had. Her sobs had been silent, deep and painful gasps that felt as though grief itself was ripping her apart each time she exhaled. And he partook in her cup, his breaths becoming in tandem with hers. As though he shared the pain, as though he knew the pain. He had been terrified inside, that if he let go for just a second he would lose her forever. She would have crumpled to the floor if it wasn't for him holding her up inside his arms, his strength completely supporting her devastation. 

She did become exhausted, limp as he lowered them to the ground. That was when they both heard her quiet crying for the first time in that eternal moment. A melody that would come and go in varying shades throughout the night. Anguished sobs. Muted cries. Silent tears. He treasured it dearly she knew. He had refused to let go, even though the muscles in his arms and back were excruciatingly taut, painful from long ordeal, unrelentingly holding on to her, desperately crushing her to himself. As his face had lay buried in her hair, with every breath he took it was as though he was taking whatever he could and making it apart of him. And she became suddenly unsure as to why she was crying, whether it was for Lylyana, or it was for the loss she felt being in his arms, that once they walked away it would just have been another day when _nothing_ happened. 

               _Oh God…_

               It was like he was apart of her, and she apart of him; every breath, pain and emotion locked inside of one another as a single entity. Flesh to flesh, bones to bones. His rhythm her own, his sinews her strength. The blood flowing in her veins, his. He was so scared he was hurting her, but she only wanted him to hold on tighter so they'd be forever knitted together. Mac couldn't remember when she fell asleep still entwined in his arms, she just remembered telling herself over and over that it _never happened_, their body and soul both weeping as though they had lost all will to exist beyond that moment. 

A part of her died _tha_t night, and became one with him in every way.

_I overstepped the boundaries of a well-wisher._

_I overstepped the boundaries of a bride._

               Mac lay curled up on the sofa, letting tears cascade down sunken cheeks, wetting the pillow.  She let question after question and argument after argument and denial after denial plaque the desert of her weary heart, and had neither the strength nor will to take control. She simply let fatigue lead her to that place of subconscious… 

_How could something so chaste, feel so wrong?_

AJ held on to her firmly, at first to stop her from struggling underneath the blanket; he had been trashing about, sobbing. She had calmed down suddenly, but to a strange level of sleep, like she had drifted into hopelessness or somewhere near its rim. AJ silently whispered a prayer in his heart. It started off with "Dear LORD" and ended with "please". He didn't know what to pray for. He gently lifted the tears off the side of her face; they were each taking orderly turn, meandering their way down her cheeks in a slow and almost deliberate fashion. He felt a dull pain inside for her. He wasn't sure why. Harriet then came in, carefully making her way over to him, and he shifted to his right to give her space to sit on the coffee table.

"Here, let me," he offered, taking the small metal basin from her.

Harriet rewet the hand towel and finished with a wring. She then neatly folded it a couple of time before placing it on Mac's forehead.  The latter shifted in distress, groaning as the cold towel touched her forehead. 

               "Sir…I worry…" Harriet finally said.

               "I know, Harriet," he assured her.

               "I've never really seen her as upset, not even when Harm crashed out at sea."

               Mac began to mumble agitatedly, as though she was reacting to their conversation. AJ moved from the coffee table to the edge of the sofa trying to soothe her once again. She quickly relaxed again.

               "Is Ms Peterson still…?"

               "She's waiting in Commander Rabb's office, sir."

               "I oughta ban Rabb from driving moving vehicles of any kind…"

               Harriet giggled a little at his resolution, and then concluded, "You really do care about her, don't you, Admiral?"

               AJ looked at her and smiled. He didn't reply. Then Mac began shifting once again, more agitated than before, "I didn't…we never…Mic, stop it! Stop it!"

               She tossed around a fair bit as Harriet and AJ tried to quieten her down, flipping the blanket off her upper torso, continuing her struggle, "Damn you! …damn you! We didn't do anything wrong!"

               "Mac…Mac!" AJ raised his voice a little, which roused her. Her eyes opened, looking around at her surroundings in disorientation. Her breaths were worryingly shallow, and she kept repeating under her breath, "We never, we never…" They allowed her some time to get her bearings, and at some point she realized where she was and remembered what had transpired over an hour or so before. Mac sat up slowly, and they both helped her as she pulled up her knees, the blanket along with them. AJ slowly let go off her hands and placed his behind on the sofa to support himself.

               "Sarah," he began, half wondering if she was listening. She made eye contact, she was. So he continued,  "Admiral Jacobs did not mention that Harm was in any serious condition, just that the car had skidded off the road…we won't know anything for sure until the lines come up…"

               "But I saw, Admiral…"  she appealed to him and to Harriet.

               "Mac, honey…that was a dream, nothing more…" Harriet replied.

               "But what if it wasn't?" Mac said slightly frantic.

               The other two were speechless, not knowing what to say in return.

               "Oh God…what am I going to do? He's…he's my frie--, he's…what am I going to do?"

               "Sarah…Sarah, stop…slow down…it will be okay…" AJ took hold of her shoulder, but was a little taken aback as a sobbing Mac fell forward into his arms. He tightened his grip around her, one hand on her head, "everything will be okay, …Harm will be okay."

               "I can't lose him all over again…I can't…" she could barely get the words out in between the tears.

Harriet could feel the anguish in her cries, and she gingerly placed a hand on Mac's back, lending whatever support she could in the absence of words.

************

Outside The Pentagon

Washington, DC

2254 ZULU

               "You could have warned me…" Bobbi blamed him.

               "You were too busy getting off 'rumors' …oh and the crack about the back of my ass…that was a beauty," Clayton defended himself, "besides, the look on you face was classic, I'm just hoping you didn't blow our cover."

               She frowned, not in the least appreciative of his ridicule, "I would have been better if I had known!"

               Clayton grinned secretly, and then offered, "Alright, can we get some dinner now? That shit we had at the facility is burning a hole in my stomach lining."

               "Gee…I hope it burns right through…" she said resentfully.

               "Look, Latham, this is going to be a long haul, and I mean long," he told her as they walked down the pathway, "If you're not going to be able to deal, then maybe you should walk away while you still can."

               "I can deal Webb! I can deal!" she assured him, jabbing a finger into his chest, "my question is: are you going to deal?" Bobbi paused and continued down the pathway, muttering, "the whole thing just keeps getting better and better."

               "Hey!" he heard it loud and clear and quickly caught up with her, "My game my rules! You take what I give you when I give you! You think this is some vending machine you can just stick a coin in and out pops _classified shit_?" he eyed her furiously, and then reminded her, "I'm already dishing more than I should!"

               "Hey yourself!" She shouted back, "_You asked __me to step up to the plate! And _I_ did!" Bobbi kept a strong gaze on him and then continued,"Now you pitch me the __classified shit right, Webb! Or you're gonna find yourself short of a batter."_

               "So! What!" he demanded, "Three strikes and you're out?? Is that it?"

               "Wrong, short stoup…" she pointed back, "'_One',_ was for _that_ back there. '_Two'_ is for pissing me off! As of now you've got _one strike left to an 'out'."_

               "Damn it…Bobbi…" Clay put his hands on his waist in frustration, and then waved the file in his hand about trying to come up with the words, "What are you so angry about? So I didn't give it to you straight away! You figured it out anyway and its not even half as important as the rest of the cake! I've been letting you have your way the whole time! What the hell is wrong with you!"

               Bobbi stopped in her tracks and crossed her arms. She wasn't so sure what was eating at her either, "Clay!" she turned around and hesitated, then tried to answer evenly, "I have a lot on the line here...my whole career could go down the drain if this messes up! For me to make sure that doesn't happen, I need to know the moment there is to know, that way I'm one step ahead of the game."

Bobbi finished, and when he didn't reply, she offered,"Okay, maybe I over-reacted…"

               "Maybe!" Clay began.

               "Okay! I _did over react! You satisfied?" she snapped, "I don't like people dangling me on a string, I'm a Congresswoman, 'Hardass Latham', always prepared, always on time, never off-guard! That's the way I play! I felt stupid in there!"_

               "Nobody knew you didn't know…" Clayton reasoned.

               "I did!" she interrupted him, "And so did you!"

               Both went quiet as security went past on the opposite side of the fence. One of the guards came over with a dog to see what the two were doing loitering around the Pentagon, but before he had gotten half a sentence out Clay flashed his clearance card and put an end to the other's inquiry. They were silent for some more as the patrol moved on, trying to calm themselves to have a more adult like conversation. The sidewalk was pretty deserted at this time and Bobbi took her time before eventually picking up where she let off, this time with more composure.

               "Look…forget it, I'm just tired. Today was just too much."

               Clay took a short breather and decided to be magnanimous and let it go, "I did not intend to jerk your chain, I wasn't thinking…" He was a tough nut, not inhuman.

               "You didn't do anything…" Bobbi answered, "…let's just leave it at that," a little uncomfortable at the mutual respect going on.

               "Truce?"

               "Oh yeah," she replied.

               "Look, we'll get dinner and eat it in your office, okay?" he offered, "we'll talk shop on your turf…I've already gotten someone to send your car back to your office..."

               "I don't even want to ask how he's going to do that when I have my keys with me…" Bobbi muttered, "And how are we getting to my office by the way? And don't tell me we're walking!" she warned.

               "Of course not," Clayton replied, walking ahead and reaching into his pocket for a set of car keys. He pressed the unlock button and a car nearby bleeped, the headlights coming on. Bobbi shook her head unbelieving, but followed him to the dark blue Mercedes. He obligated himself to open the door for her, if anything just to save himself the extra snide remark. Bobbi on the other hand almost gagged at his attempt, but tried to keep the truce as well. If she was going to work with him for some time, they'd best start learning to live with one another.

               "So what's for dinner?" he asked, starting the car.

               "As long as it ain't one of those drive thru's that serve up classified shit," she replied.

               His lips curved at her words. _She had no idea, he thought to himself._

**********

AJ's Office

JAG Headquarters

               With the blanket now wrapped around her, Mac had propped her sock clad feet up on the sofa, and was on her second cup of coffee. She had finished off the first along with the pills Sydney had brought up, much to the latters' stern protest. Mac reasoned that she always took aspirin with a good dose of caffeine to help it work faster.  And who could fight it out when it came to Mac? They just let the sick colonel have her way, but not before the Admiral's ex-girlfriend gave her a good run down about how doctor's orders are meant to be followed, and when questioned about her _other set of pills, and being silly enough to reply that she's thrown them out. She got the whole pep talk that shrinks __were doctors and were meant to be obeyed. Sydney even went to the trouble of pulling her records with Dr. Annie Hinn, and getting her a fresh prescription, which she of course made her take on the spot. Mac was utterly relieved when she finally made a move home._

"Bud's coffee tastes like crap…" she gawked a little, "watery…" trying to get AJ and Harriet to loosen up a little. They smiled a bit in return.

AJ commented dryly, "Not something you should be complaining about, be grateful we're letting you have any to begin with."

"But you're right," Harriet winked, "Bud's coffee tastes like crap."

Then began the pointless conversation about who makes what kind of coffee, how much is enough, how much is too much, how Mac puts enough powder in to kill the whole office. Mac felt horrible, they were being so nice. They didn't have to say for her to know she had made a complete fool of herself. She could remember what she'd done, running out in the rain, deliriously demanding to know where Harm was, waking up on the Admiral's sofa, and then having the whole emotional upheaval on his shoulder! To make matters worse the Admiral insisted she stay on the couch in his office! If she was able to get hold of a rifle right now, she'd shoot herself square. She was definitely more sober now that the fever was going down, but she still felt drained and weak, tired and sick; not sure if it was the sickness or the crying, maybe both. Her eyes were painfully swollen still, and her nose thoroughly blocked. At the back of her mind was a zillion thoughts raging together; of Harm, the accident, the worry, the dream; also of Mic, the fight, the wedding, everything. They were a constant drone of arguments and questions, at present so mixed up she couldn't tell which was her voice, or Harm's, or anyone else's.

_Don't make a promise you can't keep.| I haven't yet._

_We're getting too good at saying goodbye.| Why goodbye and not goodluck?_

One thing she knew…

_I didn't say goodbye…_

Harriet noticed Mac a little lost in herself, AJ as well, but he just silently observed. Harriet scooted over next to Mac, pulling her close and landing a solid kiss atop her head. Mac leaned over onto her shoulder, taking in the comfort and refuge she found there.

"All will be fine, sweetheart," Harriet hugged her tight, "You'll see." 

Outwardly she seemed stable enough, as much as anyone who had just had a breakdown and faced with the likelihood of having lost the most important person in her life, AJ thought to himself. He was silently grateful the medication seemed to be having its effects, but the other half of the time he wondered if that was really what was best for her. Past the hard external of that marine, past her only temporarily fatigued and lithe exterior, past the sober front she had up now, he saw a sadness and vulnerability that ran deeper than she would allow herself to acknowledge. And he knew that even if Harm were to come back alive and well right now he wouldn't see just relief and happiness, but the lack of hope along with it. He knew that with time all things were possible, that she'd find things to fill her life with joy, and perhaps she'd be able to let go and move on someday, yet he wondered if that void that had been raised to the surface to today, would not still be there years later.

"Harriet, why don't you go check on Ms. Peterson, make sure she's doing alright..."

"Aye, aye, Admiral," Harriet gave Mac a gentle squeeze and started out the door. She knew the Admiral could get through to Mac in certain ways none of them could, and this was what the latter needed right now. And it would be a good time to see how Renee was holding up as well. She wasn't as close to her as to Mac, but nevertheless cared for the other. Beneath that optimistic and rather lively personality was also a wonderful person, and friend. It was just unfortunate how complicated things were around Harm and Mac sometimes.

Harriet rapped lightly before going in.

"Hey," Renee looked up.

"Hey," the other replied back, then walked towards her husband, "Hey, you, you doing alright?"

Bud moved toward her and gave her a brief kiss, nodding, "I'm good…you?"

"I'm fine, Bud…listen, why don't you go on with your work, I'll stay here with Renee."

"You sure?" he asked, "Would you mind, Ms. Peterson?"

"Oh not at all, Bud, I'm sorry if I held you up…" Renee replied.

"You didn't, Ma'am…" Bud assured her, "it's nothing urgent."

"Yeah," Harriet supported, "I thought you might prefer some female company."

"_That_ I would love, Harriet, …but you were great too, Bud!" she quickly added, "I didn't mean it that way…"

"No offence taken at all, Ma'am" he smiled reassuringly, "I'll leave you two alone…see you later," he gave Harriet another kiss and went back to his office.

"Have I ever told you how lucky you are, Harriet?" Renee said.

Harriet walked over and settled down next to the other on the small couch, "How you holding up?"

Renee sighed, "Pretty good I guess, how's Mac?"

Harriet was a little flabbergasted by the question, but tried her best to conjure an easier reply, "She's sick…had her medicine, so the fevers' going down…."

"No, Harriet…I mean how _is she?" Renee asked once more._

The other took a deep breath and then tweaked the conversation to a level more comfortable for her to work with, "Does it matter?"

"I suppose it shouldn't…" Renee reflected.

"Renee…"

"You don't have to pretend, Harriet," she said in earnest, "really. I understand."

"You know she doesn't intentionally mean to upset you…"

"I know, which I guess is what makes it so hard to be a bitch about it," she smiled to alleviate the discomfort the other felt.

"You're not a bitch," Harriet laughed, trying pull a good frown.

"Oh but I am, dah-ling," Renee pulled her best diva impression, making them both laugh harder.

"Well, in my book you're the complete opposite," Harriet briefly put her arm around Renee to give her a squeeze, "You're a 'dear'."

Renee's looked down, but spoke of gratefulness for the sweet words, and she confided, "I've been counting down the days to the wedding…"

"I'm not surprised…" the other commented without malice.

"I don't mean to…you know…" she emphasized, beginning to fiddle with her nails as a meaningless distraction.

"I know." Harriet assured her.

"With my dad's…thing, I've just been thinking a lot more, about what I want, what I need…"

"Any conclusions yet?" Harriet asked.

"Mmm…" Renee shook her head, "Not yet, soon perhaps…care to share any input?"

Harriet pondered carefully what to say, then told the other affectionately, "I won't speak for either of them…but Harm is with you right now, and Mac's with Mic. You need to figure out what you want, and how much you're willing to give to have that."

"Are you always sure about Bud?" Renee asked.

"Not always…sometimes more 'not' than 'sure', " she grinned, "We have our good times, and our bad, _and _the ugly… but I guess it boils down to that we're committed to being together." Harriet shrugged, "I love him, and I know he loves me."

"I love him…and I know he loves me…I just…"

"Just what?"

"I just wonder sometimes if that's enough."

"Hmm…won't lie to you, love is a strange thing. Sometimes you find the perfect one, but it just doesn't work out. Sometimes you find the not-so-perfect one, and you work it out."

Renee said nothing, but looked up at the other wonderingly.

Harriet gazed back tenderly and advised, "Find out what you want, Honey, whether or not Mac walks down that isle with Mic."

***********

AJ's Office

JAG Headquarters

Mac hesitated a long while and she still couldn't find an answer in herself. She was grateful the Admiral hadn't called Mic though, things were difficult enough as it was.

               "I don't know, Admiral…and I'm not looking for the easy way out on this," she told him, "I just don't know. I don't." 

               _I don't._

               "It's alright, you're entitled to that answer," AJ replied, "who's got anything figured out when it comes to such things…I thought did, God knows I didn't."

_               Do you love me, Sarah?_

_               Of course I do…_

_Is because I love you?_

He studied her as she huddled to the other ends of the sofa across to him, watching as fingered the rim of her mug not wanting to meet his eyes.__

               "Do you think what Mic said was true?" he continued.

               "I _do love him, sir."_

_I love you because of you._

               "So tell me, why are we here exactly?"

               _Why are you marrying me, Sarah?_

Mac was a little bewildered by the question, and did her best to answer, "Waiting…"

               _For how long?_

               "For?" he curtly prodded.

               "…news about Harm…" she added.

_Do you love, Mic?_

"Hmm. Why?" he persisted.

               "Because we care…and we're worried…sir?" she tried.

               _He's my best friend._

               AJ gulped down a mouthful of cold coffee and put the mug on the coffee table. Mac's eyes followed this but snapped back to him when he spoke once more, "Wrong answer, Col."

               "W-wrong, sir?" she felt uneasy at the accusation.

               "That's was my reason for being here…as well as Bud's and Harriet's…" he stated plainly, and then looked at her more intently, "Why are _you here, Mac?"_

               She pulled the blanket tighter around herself feeling even more vulnerable than before.

_That's not a question you get to ask._

**********

Latham's Office

Washington, DC

               "What you're telling me is this has to do with someone in the Pentagon,"

               "Not necessarily…"

               "Or someone who has access to it," Bobbi corrected.

               "But it had to have been…"

               "…have been an inside job because there's no way the guy could have gotten in undetected and then screwed around with the entire security system and gotten out like the invisible man."

               Clay raised an eyebrow in amusement, she was finishing his sentences, and wasn't the least bit disturbed that she was. "Precisely." He affirmed.

               "And what was that you said the perp used?"

               "Allamander." Clay replied, taking the last bite out of his steak and cheese subway before crushing the wrapper.

"And what did you say he did?"

               "He used the wood to make kebab sticks," he answered, and continued the rest along with her,

               "And the facility detectors only register substances that have been artificially engineered because they expect attempts of a certain caliber to be made, therefore excluding the possibility of naturally occurring organic substances being used in assassination attempts."

               Clay smirked as he cleared the table, "But obviously, that assumption is going to change…you done with that?"

               "Mmm-hmm."

               He took the half eaten fries and hoisted it into the brown paper bag. Then he made a quick swipe for the wine glass in her hand, much to her annoyance, "Hey! I'm not done with that!"

               "Oh I think you are…" he told her.

               "I'm not drunk, Webb," she assured him.

               "Yes, I agree," he agreed, "But then again…"

               "I'm not," she persisted.

               "Alright, here," pulled her out of her chair and pointed a specific brown stripe along her floor carpet, "walk along this line, toe to heel."

               She did so, "See?"

               "Hmm," he gloated, "the fact that you could accomplish that – you're not drunk. The fact that you bothered to – enough."

               He packed remnants of dinner lying about the table and stuff the brown bag into the bin.

               "Thanks for dinner, Webb," Bobbi said as she opened the French windows and stepped onto the balcony. Clay picked up his blazer and slipped it back on, muttering, "the fact that you're thanking me – more than enough."

               "I've waited a long time for this…"

               "And what might that be?" he said joining her outside, his trench coat in one hand prepared to leave.

               "This here…" her eyes leading back to her office.

               "Don't tell me your ambition when you were a kid was to be in American politics?" Clayton obliged her conversation, but was a little struck by the answer.

               "As a matter of fact it was," Bobbi replied glancing at him briefly before she looked back out into the night, "I didn't grow up in Michigan, at least not till I was thirteen anyway."

               Clay knew her background well enough, but let the lady carry on, "No, I lived in Chicago; my parents died when I was two, my eldest brother raised me and another bro with money he got working for drugs on the street for some rich guy. He couldn't do anything else, had no education. He died when I was twelve. Got knocked off by guys from another crib…the neighbor came to our door the next day."

Bobbi removed her hands from the railing and crossed them, shivering in the cold; Clay automatically took off his blazer and put it over her shoulders, and she pulled it closer, continuing, "I remember I was watching this big white limo going by, you know with one of those openings in the roof?"

Che nodded.

"Yeah well it stopped in the middle of my neighborhood, just outside my window. Was a white guy sprouting fancy words about 'changing our situation' and whatever…would have been nice if he actually meant what he was saying. Anyway my second brother dropped out of high school, moved us to Michigan because he didn't want his little sister 'going down' that way. Worked his ass off to make sure I got the best education possible. And it changed my life."

"So now you work your ass off to make sure no one else has to go through the same thing?" he was amused.

"Well it beats running around looking for 'classified shit'…" she joked back.

He laughed too, and then excused himself when his cell phone rang. She left him to answer it.

"That was Furginnson…" he reported, "he says Reese is out of the red, he's put a four-man watch on her room."

"Thank God…" Bobbi let out, "I thought…when I saw her…" she covered her mouth with on hand.

"Yeah well," Clay remarked, "She's doing just fine now."

He closed the gap in between them and studied her intently, "The question is, are you?" 

************

JAG Headquarters'

               The knock at the door startled her, but her hopes began to fall the moment she saw who it was – Bud. AJ remained composed though, his gears still aligned with the conversation with Mac. Both didn't seem to notice the elated expression on his face as he came in.

               "Yes, what is it, Bud?" AJ enquired.

               "Its Commander Rabb, sir!" he told eagerly, "He and Commander Turner are back!"

************

Latham's Office

There was silence between them for a moment, and Bobbi felt uneasy under his gaze, uncomfortable with the close proximity. They held that way for a while, allowing the tension to still them a little longer, but both knew better, and eventually stepped back.

"I think you're right," Bobbi commented awkwardly, "I've had too much to drink."

"Yep," he nodded, swallowing, "I'd better go…"

"Uh-huh," she agreed.

They began moving back into her office.

************

JAG Headquarters

               AJ took his time making his way to Harm's office. When the news came Mac had practically thrown of the blanket and dashed over. Past him and even Bud. She walked briskly of course, keeping enough composure, but he knew what she must have felt when the news came. He was astounded himself.

               Mac on the other hand, who was now standing at his door, wasn't feeling the same way she had just moments earlier. His back was towards her. And as quickly as hope and come it had left. On one hand there was assurance that he was alive and well, on the other AJ was right, she felt a void that just hadn't been taken away. There he was, once again, someone else in his arms. Harm never saw the joy on her face disintegrate into hidden devastation. Harriet did, as she stood, in between the two, watching from a distance.

               "Commander," AJ said as he reached the open door where Sturgis was also standing, he put his hand on the other's shoulder as though to make sure he was really there in one piece. Then with his hand still there he looked into the office for Harm, just as he was extricating himself from Renee's hug, "Commander," AJ repeated this time to him. He saw Harm's eyes fall on Mac before finally acknowledging him, and he could only imagine Mac's thoughts.

               Sturgis entered the office after AJ as he demanded, "Mind telling me what the hell happened?"

               When Harm didn't answer because he was too distracted by the sickly marine colonel standing at his door, Sturgis replied for them, "We had dog trouble, sir…the mutt over there," he motioned to a box on Harm's desk, "decided to take a stroll in the rain, and our friend over here," he said referring to Harm, "had his head in the clouds."

               AJ frowned, "the CO at Norfolk told us you were in an accident, that you skidded along the road…"

               "We did, sir." Harm replied, "We went off the road and right into a tree. Car was pretty well smashed up but we got away with nothing more than a few cuts and bumps."

               "Mmm…" AJ examined the bruise just under Harm's left eye, "we were cut off from Norfolk before Admiral Jacobs could give us any details…obviously before he could tell us that you were alive!"

               Harm forced a courtesy smile; Sturgis laughed, as did Renee and Bud who was now standing beside Mac.

"I'm sorry if we worried anyone," Harm added, to Mac more than anyone else.

               "How did you manage to get back then?" Renee put her arm around his waist, causing his arm to instinctively go up over her shoulders, slower though this time. His eyes on Mac

               "The medic who attended to us happened to be driving up for the weekend…"

               "He gave us a lift back to the office since my car is here," Sturg finished for his friend.

               AJ nodded, "Well then, you both seem pretty intact," he said giving them a brief looking from head to toe, "Nothing missing…would it be too much to expect to see you both in at 0900 tomorrow?"

               "Not a problem, Admiral." Sturgis replied.

               "Not a problem at all, sir," Harm answered.

               "Well then, bright and early gentlemen," AJ stated as he turned to leave, ushering Mac along.

               "Mac," Harm stopped her, "I'll see you tomorrow?"

               Mac hardly looked at him when she nodded. AJ then placed his arm over her protectively as they headed back to his office.

               "Come on, handsome," Renee tugged at his waist, "Let's get you home."

               Harm picked up the brown cardboard box and murmured to the tussled pup inside, "I think she's talking to you."

               Renee swatted him playfully and pulled him along, "Come on, I poofed."

               He laughed with her a little as they walked down the corridor and into the elevator. When the doors began to close he caught a glimpse of her sitting in the Admiral's office, as he came to close the door, and his mind drifted back to a day just like this one…

               _You're doing this now because you're guilty about not doing it then?!_

_Woah, you're angry with me? Renee's father died!_

_And if he hadn't?_

               "If he hadn't…" Harm mumbled in dismay.

               "Did you say something?" Renee asked.

               "Who me?" he replied.

               "I don't see anyone else in here…unless you count the dog…"

               "No, I don't think I said anything…" he answered.

               "Well then, must have been the dog then," she remarked, mock-frowning at the little thing inside. 

Harm watched her play with his new friend for a while, and then began retreating back to his thoughts once more, his eyes becoming sad once again.

_We would have talked._

_We would have talked, He nodded absently to himself._

_We're getting to good a saying goodbye…_

Harm wet his dry lips agreeing.

_Just like that day, he lamented, ___

_Just like that day._

************

Latham's Office

               He told her he would have offered her a ride home, but that it probably wasn't a good idea. He had insisted she was not to drive home as she was, so that's how he ended up with her, waiting by the road for a taxi.

               "Listen, I'm going to run the whole thing by Harm, tomorrow at the gala, according to how we planned…"

               "According to how _you planned…" he had to say._

               "Fine," she let it go by, "According to how _I planned. But I'm not going to push…I spoke with him today, and he and Sarah…well, I'm just not so sure I want to."_

               "Hmm…Harm and Mac," Clay mused, "now there's a pair. So perfect it can never work out."

               She held back for a moment, then couldn't resist, "Kind of like you and me." But when he stared at her looking worried, she corrected, "I'm kidding!"

               "Just checking…" he murmured weakly, grabbing the insides of his coat pockets and reminding himself never again to mix wine with business while on a job with Bobbi.

               Clay caught sight of a vacant taxi pulling round the corner and quickly flagged it down. He opened the door and gave some instructions to the driver, passing him a twenty-dollar bill. And then he turned to Bobbi, moving aside to allow her room to get in.

               "I'll send some people over to your place tomorrow to pick you up and take you to…'erm', and then to the office after." 

Bobbi looked at him questionably, and he explained, "After today, best be careful. I can't have my batter dying…compromised, "he corrected, "before the games even begin."

               She nodded slightly disappointed and was about to get in, then he stopped her by the elbow, the taxi door mediating in between them, "Bobbi…if you need to talk about what happened today…"

He paused for the longest time, and decided it best to revise his intentions, "Look for someone." He told her plainly. But she stared at him intently, and began to lean in a little towards him. He froze, but didn't want to step back. 

She did, reminded herself of who they were.

               "You think those two will ever get it together?" she finally said, looking down towards the ground.

               Clay shook his head, and affirmed, "Too perfect…"

               "Mmm…" she agreed, "it'll never work."

               There was silence for some more,  and then he mustered, "You'd better go."

               Bobbi smiled back at him, and then picked up her courage to give him a chaste peck on the cheek, He was clearly taken aback. She could have swore if the lights were brighter he had blushed.

"Goodbye, Mr. Webb," she bade and got into the taxi.

He closed the door for her, and she never for once looked back as the taxi sped off. He approved.

               Once the taxi was a good distance off, he nodded, and a car across the street lighted up; the two men inside nodded back at him, and set off following the taxi.

               Clayton inhaled deeply, sucking in a decent breath of the cold midnight air. And he smiled to himself, "Goodbye, Congresswoman."

               He stepped off the sidewalk and hurried across the street to his car.

               _Never look back._

************

Roberts' Car

               Mac leaned up against the backseat, her hands by her side. Her entire body was tired out from the nights' events, but her heart all the more so.

_I'm so sick of this dance._

"So sick of the dance…" she murmured only to herself. 

               When AJ had asked her that question, _what do you want? She had told him she didn't know. And after a whole round of twenty questions, she actually thought she knew, but now she knew she probably didn't._

               _I don't know, she told herself, __I don't._

               Bud focused on the road ahead, but occasionally stole glances into the rearview mirror just to see how she was doing. Harriet turned around a couple of times, but scarcely wanted to disturb her. Mac hadn't spoken a word since coming from the office. All she would say to Harriet was that if it wasn't too much trouble, she wanted to go home. Mac looked composed enough, no different from her usual self, but the sadness Harriet saw in those eyes were far more seated than she could behold, and she decided it was best to leave her to be alone for now. It was as though the already dim light that once graced those eyes as fire had now been snuffed out deprived of what little glory it had still beheld. Now there was only cool emptiness about them.

               And behind the windows to her soul, Mac found herself walking through an endless corridor of open closets, memories of the times spent with Harm. Every moment, every argument, every smile; all carefully catalogued and referenced. On the exterior Mac was a picture of steel, no movement, but inside, she was running from one memory to the next, trying to shut every single closet door. But as she ran on, doors she had closed flew back open, and she couldn't keep up. One memory leading to another.

               A single tear rolled down her cheek, then another. When she was sure Bud and Harriet were not looking, she quickly reached up and swiped them away. But once one had escaped her, others threatened to follow close behind, and she held breath, hiding her face behind one hand as she struggled to hold all back in. As she did however, the obstinate persistence of her heart forced her mind into submission. And she felt all the pain of loss, and betrayal and anger and hurt as she saw him, yet did not see him. The memory of him. His back toward her, holding someone else in his arms.

               _Just like that day._

_               Just like that day._

_               And her soul wept in silence._


	8. Book 1: River Crossings - Chapter 7

Beyond the Rivers of Jordan

Book 1: River Crossings

**_Chapter 7_**

****

JAG Internal Network

Log entry no: 20017444__

"Walking away isn't easy, but sometimes it's the right thing to do."

User ID: Harm

'The Fifth Avenue'

Rendezvous Hotel

Behind Grand Central Station

1945 ZULU

               Harm raised his left eyebrow not sure if he was more disgusted, or amused.

               "Oh come on, Harm! Have a sense of humor!" Renee elbowed him, making him raise it higher. She was referring to the sissified P.R. at the podium whom she had of course chosen, as Bobbi's publicity consultant. Sturgis sat on Harm's right and giggled a bit to himself, before saying, "Yeah Harm, have a sense of humor!"

               Harm shot him a warning glare. The Hammer was not in the mood to be patronized. He had known there had to be some other reason Bobbi had wanted him to be here tonight, but he had no idea it was to _that_ extent, and he couldn't believe the Admiral hadn't forewarned him.

"…And NOW ladies and gentlemen," the man on the stage dramatized exaggeratedly, much to the audiences' amusement, "without further adieu, I'm am DEEPLY privileged, and TREMENDOUSLY honored, to present to you the mesmerizing…the beautiful…the morally upright…" He made laughter go off all over the ballroom amongst the black ties attending, and proudly kept on going, "the SEXY…" earning a couple of catcalls, making Bobbi to shake her head in amusement. Then he paused, just to give the whole speech greater effect, and finished his solo by saying, "the lady who's shamelessly buying every single one of you dinner, in bid to secure your vote I might add…now that she's running for senate and all," the crowd laughed some more, adding to his satisfaction, "Candidate for the coming Senate elections, Congresswoman Bobbi Latham!"

The room stood to give her a standing ovation as she got up from her seat and moved to the podium. Harm grudgingly followed suit.

Sturgis continued clapping, "You have a choice..."

Harm frowned at the other, "What makes you think I can't win it?"

               The other rolled his eyes, "You don't have a case, Harm."

               "According to you, Sturgis, I've never had a winnable case." He argued back.

               Sturgis had to agree, "You represent unusual clients my friend…"

               "Excuse me, counsels, but could you two save the closing arguments for one night?" Renee chided as the applause died down and they sat back down into their seats.

               They watched as Bobbi took a moment to make eye contact with everyone in the room, and then she opened, "If there's one thing I want to make sure you remember when you go home tonight…its that the dinner is offensively expensive."

               The guests laughed, and one man shouted out, "You have my vote, Congresswoman!"

"Careful, Derek…I'll sue if you don't." Laughter broke out again.

               "By the way if any of you has a campaign coming up," Bobbi referred to her herald, "Enrique is available for…how much was it, Ms Peterson?" she said into the mike.

               "Two dollars and hour!" Renee joked back.

               "You can't win what's not yours to win…what are you going to do? Shoot up the courtroom?" Sturg whispered to Harm.

               "Ah! There you have it…he'll butter you up good and if yours isn't the hottest scandal on tomorrows' tabloids…you can have your money back!" Bobbi remarked.

               "It worked once…" Harm muttered back.

The crowd broke out in applause and another round of laughter for the last comment. 

"Isn't she great?" Renee whispered.

"Perfect," he replied sarcastically.

_Don't feel sorry for me._

***********

Dining Room

Bud and Harriet's Residence

               "That was fantastic, Harriet!" Mic smacked his lips in satisfaction.

               "Now you're exaggerating, Mic…"

               "Honest, luv! The best!" he defended, giving her a firm kiss on the cheek as she bent over to clear his plate.

               "Now, now, Commander, not something you should be doing in front of your future wife…AND my husband for that matter," Harriet jokingly chided him.

               "No problem, sir…you can carry my wife away anytime…" Bud remarked and instantly got a warning look from Harriet.

               Mic laughed heartily and asked, "I'll bet that includes the kid too, mate?"

               "Maybe I'll be able to get some peace and quiet…" Bud replied, grinning.

               "Aw…you're a good little fellow aren't 'ya?" Mic reached across Mac and messed up baby AJ's hair, much to the child's annoyance. As Mic continued his conversation with his father, the little one reached up to fiddle with his hair in bid to rearrange it, but only succeeded ruffling it more so.

               _You suppose we'll have one of our own someday?_

               Mac smiled half-heartedly at the pouting kid sitting in the high chair next to her and began gently pushing the hair away from his face and neatly into place. As she did so the image of Harm doing the same so many times before flashed briefly before her. She sighed, whispering to AJ, "You don't like that too much, huh?" The little one peered back at her while holding on to the two handles on his cup and drinking the juice inside. He absently shook his head in reply before putting his drink back down. Mac lifted the last spoonful of his dinner and he opened his mouth wide.

               _Someday._

"Here it comes, sailor…" They both chomped down sharing a solid grin, the older mimicking the younger in his actions. "More?" Mac enquired. He shook his head, concentrating on chewing.

               _Ha. Don't make promises you can't keep._

               "All done, huh?" she made conversation as she began clearing his tray. He managed to muffle a 'yweah' as he continued chewing, making her smile. Mac picked up his cup and then used her free hand smooth his hair back neatly one more time before disappearing into the kitchen. She placed the items into the sink, and then began helping by drying off the dishes the other had finished with. Harriet observed the mournfully resolute look in the others eyes, and asked, "You okay?"

               _Are you happy for you?_

               Mac nodded silently, and then said, "…you could have taken out the wine…"

               "Naah, juice was good…" the other gave in reply.

               "With steak, Mrs Roberts?" Mac raised and eyebrow amused.

               Harriet giggled and elbowed her for blowing the lid on her excuse, "Thanks!" They both laughed for a bit more, but let the joke die down into seriousness finally. 

_Do you love him?_

"You don't have to do this, you know?" Harriet spoke once more.

               "Do what?" Mac replied calmly.

               "Pretend that everythings' okay when its not."

               _Do you love Renee?_

               Mac glanced at her once more then returned to drying the dishes. Harriet finished off the last plate and turned to appeal once more, "You can still walk away…" The other dried off the plate handed to her, then her hands, and then answered as she tossed the cloth aside, whispering back,

"I already did."

Mac started out into the dining room. Harriet followed.

_…Its five years…not a life sentence._

**********

'The Fifth Avenue'

Rendezvous Hotel

Behind Grand Central Station

Harm stepped out onto the windy terrace, closing the door behind him. He could feel instant relief from the chattering crowd on the other side of the wooden separator. Instant relief from the invisible darts of American politics flying across and around the room, all behind your back; instant relief from a certain congresswoman and close friend's flirtatious banter. Safe from the wiles of a certain P.R. named Enrique whom he was fairly certain was gay; safe from the silent, angry darts Renee was throwing at him. Harm shivered at the cold bite of the night wind, tucking his hands tightly under his dinner blazer, but then told himself, _better this than Renee's disdain. _And then couldn't help but revise_, better this than her disdain._

"Running away from the rest of the world?" a voice came from Harm's back left hand corner. He immediately turned his head, to see an old gentlemen with a cane in one hand and brown envelope in the other gracefully saunter toward him. He was in a tuxedo, so it was straight away apparent he was one of Bobbi's many guests. 

Harm was slightly taken aback, and looked at the other quizzically, "…s-sorry?"

"The party," the other lifted his cane at the guests behind the french-windows, still going strong. 

_Oh!_ Harm gave a look of understanding. The man had an unusual accent, one that sounded slightly mixed, Harm noted, "Yes, sir…American politics has never been my cup of tea."

"Mmm…" the other nodded, "me neither…but sometimes we can't help but find ourselves unwilling participants in the game of charades."

"I take it you're not an ardent supporter of Congresswoman Latham, sir?" Harm guessed.

"Oh no, son," the old man replied, "Don't misunderstand, the congresswoman and I have _vested _interest in one another's work. You?"

"Me? I'm her no. one fan…" Harm joked.

"Ah yes…the congresswoman's pin-up boy! Rabb…you were on that case recently…" the man recognized, wagging his cane at Harm before settling it on the railing where Harm was.

"Hazard…" Harm replied.

"Yes, that's it…Your name, son?"

"Oh I'm sorry," Harm apologized, raising his hand, "Harmon Rabb…Jr."

"Nathan Samuelle," he replied, "I'm an associate of the congresswoman's"

They shook hands before leaning onto the railing. Harm glanced to his left and commented, "That's a very elegant cane…"

"That it is…" the other absently replied before continuing, " So, I take it you were dragged unwillingly into this?"

"To the party?" Harm confirmed, "Yeah, I mean no…I…sorry, I've just been a little tired of late, mind isn't functioning too well…"

"Why don't we sit down then…" he motioned Harm towards the bench just behind them, and they both settled down. "Beautiful night is it not?" the other commented.

"That it is, sir," Harm replied.

"So, for the sake of pointless conversation, tell me about yourself."

"Myself?"

"Career, family…whatever. Its better than being in there with all those political weenies."

Harm grinned, "That is true. Erm, let's see then. Not married…so no kids either, dad was a Navy pilot, but he shot down in Nam. I spent the better part of my life searching for him only to find out he was dead…and that I had a brother…its complicated, why don't we just skip it…"

"The son who's been painfully trying to follow in his father's footsteps…"

Harm shifted uncomfortably and laughed a little, "Seems like a lot of people make that observation…"

"If I had a son I would want him to move on, but nevertheless its an honor to a father to be loved and admired so by his children."

"Mmm, I prefer to say a good father is the crowning pride of his children." Harm answered before continuing, "And yourself, sir? Do you have children?"

"Well…" the other exhaled, "I had a son…but I lost him years back…"

"I'm sorry…"

"No no…what's done can't be undone…if he was still alive I reckon he'd be around your age…married, children maybe. So what's the story? Why is an eligible young bachelor like yourself alone? Playing the field perhaps?"

"I wish that were the case," Harm laughed.

"Hmm…occupational hazard then?"

Harm laughed some more at the irony of his statement, then replied, "My girlfriend's inside…Ms Peterson, the congresswoman's publicity consultant…"

"Ha…I see…well…"

"Not what you expected?"

"Can't say that, no."

"Well, you and the rest of the world," Harm commented bitterly.

"Does it matter?" the old man raised and eyebrow, causing Harm to ponder the matter further.

"No," he finally said, "I don't suppose it should."

"Is there someone else perhaps…" 

Harm felt queezy, uncomfortable that a stranger was probing thus far into another strangers life, but the old man persisted, "that's it isn't it?"

"…."

"So it is…why not her then?"

"She loves another man." Harm simply replied, slightly shocked at himself for opening up to a stranger. He assumed this was what people meant when they talked about it being easier to tell a stranger you deepest secrets. And some part of him probably did want to talk. Mac had always been his only true confidante, but that had obviously changed forever. She was once his eye of calm in every storm…now, he wasn't so sure. He wasn't so sure if they'd set themselves up for the fall or let fate lead them on in emotional trifles only to be betrayed in the deepest of consequence. Whatever the case, the greater part of him now believed the present state of affairs had been inevitable. Looking back, he felt like that there had never been a time where he had been in control, as though control had been but an illusion that had conned him into  a false sense of security. He felt helpless, like a powerless pawn of mere amusement in God's brutal game of chess. Maybe that was how Mac felt, he thought. It seemed liked they had worked so hard their entire lives only to loose all, unwillingly subject to the unrelenting whims of fate's fancy. Without her, it was as though all that was good in his life seemed meaningless and trivial in the shadow of loves lost, crusades devastated. All the past seemed to become present once again, resurrected by the turmoil of jaded emotions.

"You don't seem one to relent…"

"Sometimes walking away is the right thing to do."

**********

Baby AJ's room

Bud and Harriet's Residence

               Rowdy laughter bellowed up from downstairs, stirring the child who had been about to drift off once more. Harriet and Mac both frowned in annoyance before the former yelled down from where they were beside AJ's cot.

               "Bud! AJ's trying to sleep!"

               "Sorry, honey!" the reply came back up and the conversation between the two men toned down considerably. Mac leaned her chin on the side of the cot, putting one hand in to sooth AJ, watching his eyes nod off over and over again. Harriet sat on the opposite side and took in the scene.

               "You'll make a wonderful mom someday…" she commented.

Mac sighed, glad yet not so.

               _With my looks and your brains, he'll be perfect._

_               And what if she has your looks and my brains?_

_               That could work too._

               "Talk to me, Sarah…please. You're scaring me." Harriet reached across to cup her cheek. Mac rested in her hand, but could scarcely find it in herself, as hard as she tried, to be okay. All she could muster was an apology.

               "Please just walk away…if you're not going to be happy then…"

               "I will be happy, Harriet. I will," Mac replied, "I'm probably just tired, with the flu and the pills and work…its probably all that and PMS or something. I fine. Really."

               "You just don't look happy…ever since last night."

               "I…its was just a strain…that's all. I'm alright…Mic's a good man, he makes me happy…I love him, I do." Mac could almost feel pain when she said that, but she did love him. 

               "You'll have no regrets?"

               Mac felt almost helpless at that question, and it showed. She could almost feel tears threatening to surface once more. Confusing. Contradiction. She just could not behold herself sometimes. Anger, betrayal, pain, sadness, they would just come and go as quickly, switching back and forth and will and fancy, oblivious and insensitive to her needs and circumstances. The pills helped. Just to numb them and make them disappear, but only so much.

               "I guess that's why they call marriage a lifelong commitment, you should know."

               "I know that's the case for me and Bud, but for you…it seems almost like a life sentence."

               "Surely I don't give you that impression!" Mac exclaimed.

               "Okay, so I'm exaggerating," Harriet smiled back, much the other's relief, "I just don't want you to regret it later…not working it out with Harm…"

               Mac sighed, "There is no Harm…there's Harm and Renee, and there's me and Mic."

               "You all have a choice…"

               "And we made it," Mac told her, "…sometimes walking away, its just the right thing to do."

               Mac lightly placed her hand on AJ's chest, watching the little one's rise and fall.

               You suppose you'll have one of our own someday?

               "Yeah…me with Mic, you with Renee," Mac whispered, lost in her own imaginings. Harriet heard her words and deliberated deeply.

               _Sometimes you find the perfect on and its just doesn't work out. Sometimes you find the not so perfect one and you work it out._

_               At the end of the day, every woman wants what you want, Mac._

***********

Terrace outside 'The Fifth Avenue'

Rendezvous Hotel

Behind Grand Central Station

               Nathan smiled idlely to himself, and then slowly got up, supporting himself on the arms of the bench. Harm rose along with him.

               "It was good talking with you, Harmon."

               "The pleasure was mine, sir."

               The old man began turning back into the building, but Harm picked up the brown envelope from the bench and caught up with him, "You forgot this, sir."

               Nathan looked at the other and replied, "Oh no, that's yours."

               "Sir?"

               Nathan took a step closer and put his hand on Harm's shoulder solemnly, "A piece of advice from an old man if you will. Sometimes…the choices we make, only delay what is inevitable."

               Harm gazed back at the other, unclear as how to respond, but finally asked, "I should have let go earlier then."

Nathan didn't reply, but patted his shoulder assuringly before turning back to the door, he didn't look back, only mumbled to himself as he continued on, "The choices we make, only delay what is inevitable."

Harm stared questioningly at the brown envelope in his hands and then watched Nathan leave.

_Sometimes walking away is the right thing to do._

***********

Bud and Harriet's Residence

               Mic came up to her from behind and snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him and nuzzling at her neck. Mac felt herself respond slightly to his touch, but felt a sickening quell in her chest at the same time and wiggled out of his advances.

               "What's the matter, Sarah?" Mic asked, looking slightly hurt.

               "We agreed not to…" Mac began.

               "But we're not doing anything, what? Now I can't even kiss my fiancée for a little bit?" Mic argued.

               Mac felt irritable and frustrated, but did her best to hide it, getting up from her bed and turning around to face him. He moved over to sit down on the edge of the mattress opposite her.

               "Of course not, Mic," she quickly bent down and gave him a quick peck on the lips before straightening up again. She hoped that would be enough to satisfy him a little. She was relieved it did. Mac placed one arm across her waist and ran the other in his hair, saying, "I'm just really tired, Mic."

               Mic heaved with a little disappointment, but changed his tone to concern, "I'm sorry, you're sick, I should've been more understanding."

               "It's not your fault, Mic, I'm just exhausted still."

               "You sure that's it, luv…you're not having second thoughts or somethin'…" he checked.

               "What gave you that idea?"

               "Nothing," Mic replied, "Its just when I couldn't get you last night I worried that you were avoiding me…but when Harriet explained about going to the doctor I understood…just silly worry."

               Mac smiled weakly, nodding.

               "But you're doing a lot better, yes?" He continued.

               "Much…" Mac nodded, pulled him to his feet, "but I am still poofed, so not that I don't want you around, but I'm not going to hold out much longer…"

               Mic reluctantly let her pull him towards the door and down the staircase, groaning, "I'll call you tomorrow?"

               "You can call me all you want, Brumby, I'm not going anywhere…"

               "Alright then, you get lots of rest you hear me? Lot of water…"

               "Ye-es…"

               "I don't want you overworking and having a breakdown before our big day…"

               "Okay…"

               "Sarah," he spun round suddenly at the last step, grabbing her by the waist, "You do love me, don't you?"

               Mac stared at him intently and then took his face into her hands, bringing him close, "I love you, Mic." And she gave him a gentle lingering kiss.

               "Not because I love you?" he asked one more time.

               "No," she frowned, "I love you because you're you, okay?"

               Mac planted another kiss on his lips, and he reached for another before starting out the door, "Just making sure. Goodnight, luv."

               "Goodnight, Mic." Mac replied.

               _Whatever 's between you and Brumby, that's your business._

_               Whatever's between us? I'm marrying the guy what do you think is between us?_

_               Do you love me, Sarah?_

_               I love you for you. _

***********

Grand Central Station

Platform 5

0035 ZULU

               There were few people on the platform at this time, which made the platform seem deathly quiet. All they heard was the light snoring of a homeless man covered in some newspapers to keep warm, and the could of empty drink cans or rubbish being accidentally stumbled upon by passing commuters. None of them even bothered that there was old gentlemen with an expensive tuxedo under his trench coat standing waiting for a train. They may have noticed, but they certainly didn't think it worth the time in consideration. Nathan walked a few brisk steps over to the old man under the newspaper sheets and swiftly stuck a hundred dollar bill in his broken jeans pocket. The other did not stir in the least bit at his action and he quickly returned to where Clayton stood. The younger had raise a brow at his silent deed and Nathan simply replied,

               "When you get to my age, you'll truly understand the value of dignity."

               Clay glanced back at the homeless fellow and then said nothing. The train pulled up in front of them and they stepped into it once the doors had opened, sitting down together in a practically empty train. Both cross their legs but kept up appearances as nothing more than two strangers in the subway, not making any eye contact whatsoever.

               "You gave him the photographs?" Clayton asked.

               The other didn't answer.

               "You know this could serve more of an attraction than deterrent?"

               "They would have to be thrown into the senerio regardless, his participation hinges not on the case, but on the girl."

               Clayton conceded the truth of the words and then continued, "So we proceed as planned."

               "As planned."

               "The recent complication?" Clay enquired.

               "You'll receive instructions if there's a need for you to act. For now just remained focused."

               Clayton nodded, and then Nathan continued, "I heard a rumour worth being concerned about."

               Clay glanced sideways for the first time and then replied, "Its been dealt with."

               "Mmm," Nathan approved, "Never look back."

               "You needn't worry," Clay assured him.

               They remained quiet as the train pulled a stop and the doors opened. There was a young Chinese teenager in street sweats leaning idlely against a pillar. He kept that position for a while then looked at his wristwatch before taking off back up the staircase leading out of the station. Nathan rose and muttered to Clay, "Walking away is always the right thing to do. Always remember that."

               "I will," Clay replied before watching the other walk out of the train, following the young punk up the staircase. There would probably be a car parked out front near the station. The teen would probably breeze past the awaiting transport and be on his way, while Nathan would get in and be driven off somewhere unknown to everyone else. Clay wasn't sure when he would ever see Nathan again, possibly never. Theirs was a life best lived in seclusion and bathed in secrecy. A life best served alone.

               _Walking away is always the right thing to do._

_               Never look back._

               Clayton pondered the workings of the intricate operation as the train doors closed once again. They made a rough clanging sound, as though a stern reminder that he was inside, alone. This was his destiny, and he had learnt to embrace it, but he sincerely prayed he would never be responsible for someone else's confinement to the same. The train began accelerating, continuing on its course down that deep dark tunnel. For a moment he wondered how long it would take to reach the end of the line, he had done so many times before, but never once looked back. He had gone so far out that to return the other way would be as tedious as to continue to the end.

_               Don't look back, Clay. Never look back._

***********


	9. Book 1: River Crossings - Chapter 8

Beyond the Rivers of Jordan

Book 1: River Crossings

**_Chapter 8_**

****

JAG Internal Network

Log entry no: 20018507__

"Take the blue pill and the dream ends. Take the red pill, and you see just how far the rabbit hole goes. – Morpheus, The Matrix."

User ID: Cavalier

The Fifth Avenue, Rendezvous Hotel

Behind Grand Central Station

0045 ZULU

                "I need to talk to you, now!"

                Bobbi glared at Harm, half appalled by his lack of consideration, half perturbed at why he was so persistent, "Harm, can't you see I'm talking to someone?"

                "I can you you're flirting with Sturgis, _not _'someone'," he snapped back.

                "Gee, thanks…" Sturg frowned at the insult.

                Harm looked at the other apologetically, "Buddy…"

                "Its okay…I know I know, you're having a bad day…excuse me, congresswoman," Sturg shrugged it off and went over to join Renee across the room.

                "My, you're a joy to have around…"

                "Come with me," Harm grabbed her wine glass and gruffly handed it to the passing waiter. He then grabbed Bobbi by the arm and dragged her out of the ballroom, as discreetly as he could out of everyone's view.

                "Let go off me!" Bobbi yanked her arm out of his grip, "What on earth is the matter with you! I'm in the middle of a campaign dinner! …Is this about the case? Coz I believe I made it clear that you had a choice in the matter!"

                "Oh I'm sure you're completely alright with me not taking the case!" he shot back.

                "As a matter of fact I am!" she scolded him, angry with the lack of courtesy he was giving her. 

Harm took in deep frustrated breaths, pacing around on the spot, eyeing the woman in front of him, he stuck the brown envelope in her face, and demanded, "Then why this?"

                "What are you talking about?"

                "I'm talking about you throwing all sorts of crap my way to get me on this case!"

                Bobbi was annoyed, but nevertheless took the envelope from his hands to retrieve its contents. She only had to glance briefly at the top sheet before her eyes darted back up at Harm, "I didn't send you these…"

                "Yeah right!"

                "I didn't!"

                "You didn't send Nathan Samuelle!" Harm belted sarcastically.

"I have no idea who you're talking about!" Bobbi defended.

                Harm eyed her intently for a while, and continued, "The old man up on the terrace! He had this envelope and he said it was for me…he said he was an associate of yours!"

                "I don't know any Nathan Samuelle! Go check the guest list if you want! He is _not _on it!"

                "This is ridiculous…"

                "Fine! Don't believe me? Show me!" Bobbi tried to pull him by the arm back into the ballroom, but Harm stood his ground.

                "I already did that! I couldn't find him," he told her.

                Bobbi knit her brows together and pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index fingers, "Believe me, I had nothing to do with this…"

                Harm walked up and down in front of her almost irrationally, his face flushing a deep red, as he slammed his back heavily onto the corridor wall.

                "What's going on with you…" Bobbi took a step closer, "and don't tell me its this," she said holding up the brown envelope, "and it sure as hell can't be me asking you to take the case coz you damn well know you have a choice. You put two and two that have absolutely no connection and run in bombarding me…forget it, I'm just making it worse." Bobbi kept one hand on her hip, leaning her weight on her left heel as she questioned Harm on his behavior. But Harm didn't answer, so she continued, "Do you know why I'm giving you a choice? Because I know this is going to affect you…you and Mac as well…I'm not inhuman, Harm, as much as you like to think I am."

                "I don't think you're inhuman…" Harm mumbled.

                Bobbi sighed and replied, "Well you sure make it seem that way sometimes."

                Renee and Sturgis immerged from the entrance to Fifth Avenue to check on them.

                "Everything alright out here?" Sturg asked.

                "Everything's' fine," Bobbi replied.

                "Harm?" Renee added.

                "We'll be in a minute…hold the fort will you, darling?" Bobbi turned her head to get them to go back in. Harm nodded in agreement so Renee and Sturg moved back into the ballroom. The two in the corridor kept silent until they were a considerable distance away.

                "Look," Bobbi finally began, "we can't talk about this right now…I've got a party to get back to…if you want, we can talk about this afterwards, but I'm thinking you should just head home and sleep everything off, coz I don't see you having a level head on those shoulders of yours to have a civil discussion of any kind."

                "I...I'll be fine…" Harm replied.

                "Well, look here…go home. Take a nap or something, I could swing by your place later if you really want to talk about the case."

                "Maybe we should just do this tomorrow…I'm just…you know."

                "I was hoping you wouldn't make me work some more tonight…" she smiled to try to cheer him up.

                Harm smiled back, "You look like you're enjoying yourself in there…"

                "Your girlfriend's friend is an…_interesting_ individual I'll give him that, frankly he's not my cup of tea…but hey, if he's a hit with the crowd then…" she shrugged, "anyway, consolation is _your_ friend is quite the man." She winked.

                Harm rolled his eyes and replied, "Just give me enough run in time before the wedding card comes…I don't want a heart attack…unbelievable, my best friend and the congresswoman…"

                "I thought Mac was your best friend…" she raised an eyebrow.

                He glanced back at her and answered, "Well that's changed."

                "Now that can't be what I'd hoped."

                Harm snickered bitterly, "How did you guess."

                "If I didn't know any better, I would have thought she gave you this," Bobbi reached up to touch the bruise under his left eye, Sturgis had told her about the accident, "Wasn't because you talked to her was it?"

                "More like we didn't talk…literally." _Literally. He couldn't get that look of betrayal she had on face out of his mind. That's all he saw._

                _You honestly resent me._

                "Ha. Then maybe you should," Bobbi retorted, "You never know what lies to be uncovered."

                "I'll take my chances…" Harm replied.

                "Suit yourself…" she mused, "I have a party to get back to…" and slapped the brown envelope back in his hands, before turning away.

                "Could you tell Renee for me…"

                Bobbi nodded, "I will, just go get some rest so I don't get shot down when I come to your office tomorrow."

                Harm laughed and shook his head, "No guarantees on that one."

                Bobbi turned around one more time, "Talk to her." then she disappeared around the entrance.

                Harm sighed and sheepishly pushed himself off the wall and started towards the elevator. He pulled out a cell phone and began dialing a number.

                _You're wrong._

                "Hello? …Hey Harriet, how's it going? …yeah, how is she? …Was wondering if I could stop by tomorrow…"

***********

US Naval Headquarters

Pearl Harbor

                Elijah quickly slid the metal drawer back in place when he heard commotion coming from outside the filing room; he quietly slipped into the storage room just beside the desk, leaving a small gap to peer out into the main room. He carefully cocked his small revolver just in case, tightening the attached silencer before holding it up, but with his index finger flushed against the trigger guard. It was instinctive precaution he always took just to make sure he didn't fire unnecessarily. Not that it mattered to him, but old habits die hard. He backed up against the wall and listened intently. The sound of the lock being picked open was audible enough, and then the voices of two men talking as the door clicked, closed once more. There were flash lights roaming across the room, making him shake his head at the unprofessionalism of the two fellows outside.

                "You know where it is?" one man said.

                "He said to look for the personnel records…"

                "Where would that be…"

                "…somewhere around…here."

                He heard the sound of the two men putting on rubber gloves, he could tell by the snapping sound made as they pulled them on. Then there was the sound of a cabinet opening. Elijah recognized the squeaky hinge. It was the same one he had opened. He shifted quietly to peer out, hoping to catch a glimpse of the two men, he couldn't really see their faces, their back were towards him, but he picked up a tattoo on one man's forearm…half of it at least, most of it was hidden under his rolled up sleeve. They were in officer's uniforms, he saw as they got up and turned toward him, so he immediately shifted back against the wall.

                "Damn it, its not here."

                "How is that possible!"

                "I don't know."

                "What are we supposed to tell him?"

                "That its not here!"

                He heard more arguing as the two pulled off the gloves and started back out. When he had heard the door close again and was sure the two men had left, Elijah immerged from his hiding place. He walked over to the file cabinet and carefully pulled it back open. He examined the files. The ones marked under 'Joyner' were slightly dog-eared, so he concluded they may have been there for the same reason he was. He hurried over to the door, pulling out a foil wrapped sachet from his vest. He pulled the foil apart, and it separated to reveal a thin piece of film in between. He gently placed the transparent film onto the door knob, being careful not to shift it even in the slightest. Elijah tapped lightly, making sure he got it right before lifting the film from the metal knob. He held it against the bit of light coming from the frosted glass pane and his lips curved in satisfaction. There were a few rough prints faintly recorded on the transparent surface. He carefully pressed the foil back together, and then slipped it back into his vest pocket; glancing round once more just to make sure he hadn't left anything behind or out of place, then agilely scampered up to the window pane just above his head and out the window. He made sure to replace the latch before he left.

**********

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

0134 ZULU

                Harm inserted the key and turned. He rubbed his soles against the stiff rug outside just to get rid of any extra grit he may have picked up on the way up from the car. The roads had been perpetually wet, making the sand and what not stick to your shoes. He absently pulled off his cap and entered the apartment, fumbling around in what little light was leaking in from the corridor. He dumped the things he had on hand onto the sofa, and placed his shoes back into the cabinet beside the door. He was in the process of pulling his trench coat when he heard the sound of someone clearing his throat at the door. Harm turned around and had to walk a few steps before being able to see who it was, can't say he wasn't surprised.

                "Bobbi Latham asks me to take a case, some mystery man hands me a brown envelope with some documents I'm absolutely certain are _classified_, and then _you show up at my door step…and all in one night! Hmm." Harm marveled sarcastically, "Something has to be going down."_

                He continued removing his coat and going about his usual business. Clayton frowned a little at him, and made his own sarcastic comment, "Good evening Webb, why don't you come in?" He closed the door behind him and knowingly reached for the light switch and flipped it.

                Harm turned to observe the other for a moment before going back about dressing down, "I don't even want to ask how you know where the switch was…hey, you killed a man in my apartment before, what's a switch…"

                "Well, hello sunshine…" Clay remarked, "Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?"

                "Not interested…" the other replied as he walked into the bedroom unbuttoning his shirt, "Might as well ask how you got here."

                "By train…" Clay dully stated.

                "Oh yeah…I'm sure you even know how to take the train," Harm walked back out of his room pulling a long sleeved t-shirt on. He still had his dinner pants on but went over to the kitchen to put on some tea.

                "Did I wrong you in another life and you're deciding its pay back time?"

                Harm looked up briefly to shoot Clay a glare, "What do you want, Clay…coz this is not the best time to try roping me into anything."

                "I can see that," Clay mused and walked around the sofa to lean on its back, facing the kitchen.

                "So what's _are you here for? To get me involved in one of your little spy games or to retrieve that envelope some old man….Will you take off your shoes! I just vacumed the place!" Harm suddenly yelled in annoyance._

                Clay looked down at his shoes and irritably obliged by walking back to the main door and pulling them off. _Who woke you up on the wrong side of the bed?_ he thought, and then returned to his former position. But when he got there, Harm immediately left the pot to boil and went back into his room, closing the door behind him to change his pants. Clay muttered to himself in frustration and decided to just keep talking,

"I understand from Bobbi that she's trying to get you to take the case on Reese?"

                "She said I have a choice!' the other's voice came from the bedroom.

                "So I hear, "Clay remarked, before continuing, "Are you planning to?"

                "I haven't said yes…"

                "So are you _planning_ to say 'yes'??" Clay returned sharply.

                There was silence before Harm pulled open his bedroom door now in a pair of drawstring pants. He was tying them as he stared at Clayton, "What's it to you?" and then moved back into the kitchen.

                "Just answer the question, Rabb…" he groaned.

                "No, you answer mine!" Harm shot back.

                Clay narrowed his eyes at Harm, and they seemed to have a stare down for a considerable while before he spoke, "I came to tell you not to take the case."

                Harm raised a brow, "Now that's a first."

                "I'm serious, Commander," Clayton walked toward him and stopped just before he reach the counter, "stay out of this case. I'm warning you for your own good."

                "Are you threatening me?" Harm muttered back.

                "See it how you like," Clay replied, "It's for your _own_ good…I'm leaving."

                Clay turned to go back to where the door was, and began slipping on his shoes once again, which he found extremely bothersome just to stay to say a few sentences. He got up and then walked a few steps to the coffee table where Harm had dumped his things, picking up the brown envelope there and opening it up to view its contents.

                "I was right; you came here for that…"

                Clay glanced up at Harm and then slipped the contents back into its holder, tossing the envelope back onto the coffee table to emphasize his disregard, "Stay out of the case, Rabb." He turned to exit.

                "What the…you're not taking the envelope? Tell me the truth Webb! Did you send Nathan Samuelle? Who is he?"

                Clay didn't answer the questions, he just closed the door behind him and whispered in the corridor, "Stay out of it."

                _It's for your own good._

***********

Bane's Office, Central Missions Directive HQ

120m below sea level, East of Kensington Blv 

Exact Location Unknown

                "dai lo (_kantonese dialect for 'head'_), ta da jing lai le (he's called in)…" a male voice came through the intercom on his desk.

                Daniel pressed the button next to the speaker, and said, "ba ta fang jing wo fang jian (_put him through to me_), bu yao ji lu zai wang luo li (_don't backup the transmission on the main frame_), fang zai wo zi ji de dian nao xian (_put it on my personal system_)."

                "Uplink code being sent…code confirmed." The computer acknowledged before clearing the static feed to reveal a small operations room, where two other people were working, both on computers. Elijah came and sat down, obscuring most of the movement going on just behind him.

The large LCD screen ahead of him on the wall switched to a live feed, the computer adding notes on the bottom about the source feed…etc. Daniel made sure to note that the computer had confirmed the feed was on a secure line and patched into his personal system before allowing any transfer of information. He tapped on a sensor sensitive button at the side of his desk, making a section of metal slide away in front of him, revealing a keyboard. He keyed in a couple of commands before finally turning to the screen once more.

                "ban de ze mo yang (_how did it go_)?" Daniel asked.

                "I went in myself, couldn't handle the itch…" he replied.

                Daniel shook his head and continued, "and?"

                "The file was gone before I got there. Mid way during the operation, two officers came in, I believe they were looking for the same thing."

                "Were they from…"

                "I don't think so, they were too mediocre for that…they were in US Naval uniforms, I wasn't able to get a good look at them, but I picked up a couple of things that may help, Yi Quan is transmitting them now…Yi Quan, hao le ma (is it done)?"

                "ke yi le(Its done)," a woman's voice came from behind him.

                "Receiving download…download complete." The computer reported, and then brought up a sub window on the top right hand corner, giving Daniel a preview of the three files sent over.

                "You put us on MD4, so we didn't patch into the main database…" Elijah explained, "I managed to lift prints from the op, one complete, the other partial, hopefully enough. Also, part of a tattoo one of the officers had…you'll have to get analysts on it."

                "Will do, anything else to report?"

                "Don't suppose I could get you to tell me what this is all about?" Elijah joked.

                "wu li qu nao (incorrigible rascal)."

                "I didn't think so," Elijah grinned, "we'll be back within two hours…packing up here. Burn has already arranged for our pick up….has Mark sent news?"

                "Not yet."

                "Alright then, we'll come straight to the HQ."

                The video feed cut back to pure static and the computer reported, "Source feed terminated."

                Daniel's face turned more intense now, "Switch to main frame."

                "Main frame online," the computer complied, bringing the system back on screen.

                He pressed on the intercom once more, "Yi Ling (_Darryl's Chinese name_), ma shang gei wo liao li Ya Zhou shuo hui bao de wen jian (_get down to analyzing the info Ya Zhou/Elijah sent back immediately_), jue tui pu ke xie lou chu qu (be careful to keep this under wraps)."

                "zi dao le die (_I know, father_)," a female voice came over the intercom.

                "zuo wan le jiu shang lai (_Come up once you're done_)."

                Nathan immerged from a hidden entrance behind the desk; he walked round to sit on the other side across from Daniel.

                "Now I know why you were so particular about her."

                "A father expects more of his own."

                "Mmm," he nodded, "what more in our line of work."

***********

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

                Harm lay stretched out along his bed, one hand folded behind his head, the other across his stomach. He had boiled some water and made himself a cup of tea, but the cup still sat on his nightstand, untouched, and cold. He listened to the ticking sounds of the two clocks, one by his bed, the other hanging just outside his room. He never bothered to close the door usually, but then again he never usually had insomnia, so the ticking sound never sounded as amplified as it did now. It was down right annoying, but he was too downright irritated and stubborn to get off his backside to go close it. He just lay there, irrationally seething over the ticking clock, over which he had the means to silence.

                "ARGH!" he eventually let out and stormed over, violently slamming the door shut, and when he could hear one other set of ticking, he marched over to the night stand and yanked the wire straight out of its socket. Because the wire was pretty short, he subsequently sent the alarm clock flying a little way as well, hitting the bed before bouncing onto the floor. Harm suddenly stopped himself, groaning, wondering why on earth he was being so stupid over a stupider, inanimate object. He grudgingly picked up the alarm clock to see if it was alright, and just as quickly tossed it with jaded disregard over to the other side of the queen sized bed, and flopped faced down into the mattress. His head hit the corner of the clock that lay there. It didn't hurt much, but he yelped, seconds later only to let out a frustrated cry once more. Somehow even the silly little things were beginning to look like grave injustices. He just wanted to go to sleep.

                One minute, then two, then a few. The hammer became more resolute with his defeat, and allowed the riot of thoughts and imaginings free passage way through his mind. It seemed less tiring that way. While this went on, he propped himself up with one hand, massaging the area between his brows, they ached terribly. And he glanced up several times, at the brown file that lay behind the closed door. Once, twice, till the urge compelled him.

                "Why not?" he growled and then pushed himself of the bed and out the door. He swung back again just to grab his mug, throwing the contents into the sink absently. Then he set the pot to boil again, taking out the coffee powder and dumping a spoonful of the granules into his mug, followed by a bit of sugar and creamer. He deliberately tried not to make eye contact with the brown envelope sitting on the coffee table, but his resolve was obviously much weaker at three a.m. in the morning, because within the blink of an eye he was on the sofa, going through its contents. He laid out the stack of print outs; all the photographs, briefly examining them, except for one, which he looked at more intently for a moment longer. Then he pulled the paper clip off the stack of computer-generated data. Everything was photocopied, and purposely blurred out at essentially areas, like faces on the photos, and source info on the data sheets. 

                "Classified shit." He mumbled to himself.

**********

Bud and Harriet's Residence

                He quietly made his way up the carpeted stairs, and turned into the first room on the right. There was a slight creek as he cleared the last step, but he made sure not a decibel escaped him the rest of the way. He gently closed the door behind him, letting out a breath more easily, and then tugged his leather gloves off casually and flipped them onto the bed where her feet lay under the covers. He sauntered over to the night stand and stuck his hand underneath to click the tiny switch causing yellow light to illuminate the room. She stirred slightly at first then more, finally opening her eyes and squinting painfully at the light. Then Mac mumbled groggily, "geez, its four fifteen…what the… Webb?"

                Clayton remained expressionless, except for the slight tint of fatigue in his eyes. He put the small plastic case he had carried along with him down next to the bed, sitting on the mattress next to her as she pushed herself up.

                "I'm sorry if I woke you, Col."

                "What the hell are you doing here?" she mumbled.

                "Is that all you people want to know?" he remarked.

                "Huh?"

                "Never mind," he sighed, "How have you been feeling, Sarah?"

                "Is that all _you people want to know?" she mumbled back._

                "Is it my turn to…"

                "Never mind, "she replied, "I don't even want to ask how you got in here…what's going on?"

                "I came to give you this," he said pulling the black plastic case to his lap and opening it. Clay took a syringe from it and stuck it into a small glass bottle, sucking up its contents. He flicked the syringe a little, pressing out a bit of the clear solution, before reaching for Mac's arm. Mac drew back from him.

                "Don't worry, " he assured her, explaining, "We found out that while you were working on Hazard's case, you were drugged with beta physimone…"

                "English, Webb…"

                "Basically it screws with your hormones, giving you doomsday PMS…I'm sure you've been experiencing that of late…"

                Instinctively, her mind switched to her partner, "Harm…?"

                "No," he assured her, "women only…hormone thing…"

                She silently breathed a sigh of relief, and frowned, "…I can't believe this…Why?"

                "They thought it'd throw you off the Hazard case…but it obviously just turned you into a worse nightmare…"

                "More like my life into a nightmare!" Mac stuck her right arm out for him, and felt the cold sensation of the swab of alcohol on her forearm. She gasped just a bit when the solution was injected. It stung, "Ahh…Who?"

                "It doesn't matter, Sarah," Clay replied, placing the syringe back into the case, "I've handled it. By my estimates the drug would have gradually worn off by next week…but I need your help with something, which requires you be in the right frame of mind."

                Mac thought back on how irritable she had been the past weeks, and then what happened the night before. Had it all been a drug induced frenzy? The dreams, the thoughts, the pain? Now hearing this…it had to be. A part of her then wondered why he had to do this in the middle of the night, then just as quickly concluded it was so befitting for Clayton to do something like this. It didn't matter what the reason was, it was probably meant to be kept quiet about, so she cut to the chase about his visit.

                "What is it?"

                Clay sighed and then reached into the inner pocket of his trench coat, pulling out a folded piece of paper and handing it to Mac. She in turn opened it out. The faces were blurred out, but she recognized it well enough. It was the picture of Harm's dad along with some other men, at a train station in Russia. She looked back up at Webb wanting and explanation, and he obliged,

                "Earlier this evening Harm was asked by Bobbi Latham to take the case on Major Kathryn Reese, he was also handed a stack of documents that was in along with it… by a certain man who introduced himself as Nathan Samuelle…"

                "Who is he?" Mac asked intently, now completely awake.

                "I can't tell you that…"

                "Fine," she replied. Clay would never let slip a name unless he meant for her to know, "I'll do some digging myself…"

                "It wouldn't do any good," Clayton simply replied, "He doesn't exist."

*************

Analysis Room 2, Central Missions Directive HQ

120m below sea level, East of Kensington Blv 

Exact Location Unknown

                Nathan studied the girl's features intently. She had long, jet black hair, and chiseled features, her eyes especially alluring, large and piercing. Her mother had been Polynesian, but she distinctly carried the Chinese heritage. If you didn't look hard enough, you would have never guessed she was of mixed blood.

                "She looks a lot like you, Daniel," he commented.

                The other nodded, but added his own opinion as well, "but is as strong willed and bull headed as an ox."

                Nathan smiled but said nothing. The other then continued with more tenderness, "but she has also always been a resilient one."

The girl who was probably around twenty hid the flash of displeasure behind an expressionless face, and continued her duties in audible silence. Nathan's lips curved in response, eyeing the man beside him, "She's much like her mother in that way."

Daniel nodded, agreeing, "Too much like her," he commented, before addressing the girl, "hao le mei you (Are you done)?"

"Almost," she replied.

Nathan hobbled over to the chair nearby and took a seat, waiting. He looked up at Daniel who was keeping close vigil over his daughter and remarked, "I'm surprised you managed to keep this from me all these years."

"Mmm…it's always been done that way, why break tradition that works," the other replied.

Nathan sat quietly and agreed. The executive council had always done things this way, especially when it came to the successors to the positions of Oversight and Director. The Director usually did the choosing, and was the only one with access to the information. The identities of the ones being groomed for the post were kept confidential always, and for the position of Director, that seat required more grooming than perhaps Oversight. Being the second in command was in many ways harder than being at the top sometimes. Granted as oversight you had to make great sacrifices and tough decisions, and put up with others vying for your seat, but as second in command, your greatest enemy was not external factors, but yourself, your pride. Few appreciated the role of a Director; it required not a person who had made the job his or her life, but a person whose life was the job. That's why the only ones ever considered for the post of Director were those who had been in the job from birth, which would make sense why all Directors to this day had been from Daniel's family, whether by blood or adoption. The children would be observed from young, and when determined to be a suitable candidate, be groomed for 'destiny', as Daniel would put it. Oversight on the other hand, was picked as and when one had been found. Nathan could never fully grasp the reasons for this unspoken rule. Daniel simply laid it down as that was how it was done; a Director finds destiny, destiny finds Oversight. Somehow, that simple phrase seemed to say it all.

                "hao le (Done)…guo xie shi jian jiu ke yi le (just a few more seconds). Do you want it sent to your room or you want it on disk?"

                "Copy it on disk, we'll view it up in my room," Daniel replied.

                "Done," she affirmed, pressing a button.

                "Come over here… it's about time your Uncle meets you."

                Darryl clicked on a few more buttons and then came over to greet Nathan, "Yi jiu (Uncle)."

                Nathan stood and patted her shoulder, "zong yu neng ren shi ni (Finally I get to know you), Yi Ling."

                "wo hao ji nian jiu zi nao ni shi shui le (I've seen you all these years), Yi Jiu (Uncle), zi shi qing kuang bu ying xu wo men liang ren jie qing (only that circumstance has prevented us from truly knowing one another)." She replied, "…xie xie ni jiu le wo ge gen ta tai tai he nu er (Thank you for saving my brother and his family), jiu xiang wo die shuo suo (just like my father has said) wo men ze jia shi zai qian ni tai duo (our family owes you too much)."

                "Don't thank me so much," Nathan replied, "I wasn't able to save your brother and his wife…"

                "But you did, sir," she answered, "Because of you, Raide was able to have Ruoying, and because of you Ruoying still has a life ahead of her."

                Daniel agreed, putting his hand on Nathan's shoulder, "You brought my son back to life once, who am I to bargain with God a second time? You tried, and that is more than enough."

                Nathan said nothing but patted the hand that was on his shoulder, reaffirming their friendship once more. Then he turned to Darryl, "Shall we?"

                She nodded and let the two men exit the analysis room ahead of her. She quickly grabbed the disk from its tray and double check to see that the computer had executed her command to erase all records of her work. When she was satisfied she ran the few steps to catch up with the two in front.

***********

Bud and Harriet's Residence

                "So what is he? KGB? CIA? NSA? Or Mafia maybe?"

                Clay snickered at her sarcasm, and replied, "I told you he doesn't exist…"

                Mac rolled her eyes and stretched her legs back out under the covers.

                "Is it working?" Clay asked.

                Honestly she couldn't really say she felt any different, was she supposed to anyway? She already felt pretty numb in her emotions, thanks to the pills, so she assumed it was probably working, just not substantial enough a change for her to feel tangibly.

                "I think," she offered, before continuing, "So, Harm's got this…" Mac waved the paper sheet he'd given her, and told him, "Seriously, Webb, do you really expect I'll be able to dissuade him? You know what he's like…you guys have opened a bloody hornet's nest."

                "I know," he nodded, "I'm just asking you to try."

                "We're not in the best place for me to try," she reasoned.

                Clay considered her words carefully, keeping pokerfaced throughout, "I could tell you one thing that would do the trick."

                Mac knew he was talking about not marrying Mic, and she frowned, "That is not an option."

                He shrugged and commented, "Well you can't fault me for giving suggestions."

                She rolled her eyes one more time, and then meditated as thought she wasn't sure she believed all she was hearing, "Reese really is innocent…"

                "If you ask me she ought to be shot." Clay remarked.

                Mac shook her head and argued, "For what? For disagreeing with your policy or for standing up for what's right?"

                "It doesn't make what she's doing correct, she could have handled it better."

                Mac had to agree, and added, "Her choice may spawn greater losses…then again if she didn't speak up it could go that way too…what I don't get is how your people could have let it get this far…"

                "My people don't go round saving the world, Mac...we ain't some Mother Theresa Agency. We step in only when it's necessary…"

                "You mean only when it's in your interests to do so, " she refuted.

                "Or when people give us a reason to…" Clay finished.

                "And in this case there was no reason to until Reese decided to open her gap." Mac concluded knowingly, "Sometimes I can't fathom how unfeeling you people can be."

                "My people pay a high price as it is," he replied passively, "We don't stick our hand into anything…"

                "Yeah yeah...if someone else is willing to risk his neck on it or if it's absolutely necessary. Heard it before…"

                Clay gave out a short sigh, and told her what she already knew, "Seclusion is the price of getting in, abandonment…the price you pay to get out."

                Mac studied his demeanor, but said nothing in return, so he continued,

                "Look," Clay appealed, "Just talk to him, if not for my people then for his sake, he's barking up the wrong tree, a tree that's going to take him everywhere but closure…you know that."

                "I'm not making any promises," Mac answered, "And you know why."

                "Fair enough." Clay got up to leave, taking his small black case along.

                "Is it true?" Mac called out as he reached the door, making Clay turn around to respond.

                The other considered her question carefully and then replied, "If I say 'no', you'd think I was lying, if I said 'yes', the idea would be too classified you'd still conclude I was lying. Whichever way, you'd just drive yourself crazy trying to find proof of either answers' validity, so you probably don't want me to answer that now do you?"

                Mac smiled back just a little, for which Clay gave her another answer, "It's just a lousy attempt to get Harm on this case. One that will absolutely take him for a pretty decent ride…but it's not going to uncover any great conspiracy as our friend will want to believe. Maybe there's truth out there somewhere, maybe not, and if there is, it's certainly not meant to be found, especially not by Harm. So it doesn't matter whether my answer is 'yes' or 'no'."

                She nodded at the reality of his words, and decided to let it go. Even if the truth was meant to be found, she wouldn't find it in here with Webb, and she was sure she'd probably never really know, not that she wanted to. She just wanted Harm to be okay. To move on.

                "Goodnight, Webb."

                "Goodnight."

                He shut the door to her room and proceeded out of the house and into a car that had pulled up to wait for him. Mac could hear the car drive off from her window as she settled back down into bed. She felt wide awake, and began pondering the course she was about to chart in her life. And she thought about Harm. There was a dull forbodance hanging around her, some apprehension. She wasn't sure what it was, having to talk to Harm or what had happened the night before, or what Mic would think if she spent time trying to walk Harm through all this whichever way he chose. She just prayed that when she next saw him she wouldn't see that look in his eyes. The look of a man about to embark on an endless crusade for answers, only to end in questions, more broken than he'd first started out.

_Don't do it Harm. You just concluded 18 years of searching for your father._

_This is me trying to turn a negative into a positive._

_You can walk away any time?_

_Any time._

_How about now?_

**********

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

_You discovered you have a void in your life_

Harm sat back into the sofa, extending his limbs out in all directions, stretching and twisting in bid to loosen them. 

_I just never realized how much of who I am has been shaped by my search of him…_

He yawned deeply, and then reached for his mug, gawking when he tasted the semi-cold watery fluid inside. Groggily he shuffled into the kitchen, to put it in the microwave. He'd been so absorbed in his late night readings he'd forgotten all about it.

_No Harm is deeper than that. You are replacing one obsession with another._

                He snapped the microwave door shut and pushed the start button.

_What about your life? A relationship? A child? Your future after the Navy? Or is that just not as important?_

                "But that doesn't really matter now does it, Mac? The contracts' null and void…" he mumbled as the appliance timer ran out, opening the glass door and bringing out his coffee straight to his lips. It was only just warm enough so he could swallow with ease and get some activity going in his brain. He gripped the mug handle hard, and bit down hard into the lacquered porcelain, luckily not hard enough to break the mug. That irrational rage that stirred inside him was becoming all too uncontrollable, but he couldn't even identify why. Just when he took one more gulp and seemed to be successful in quelling it, his forearm tightened, and reeled back. 

_Do you ever get through things, Harm?_

_Eventually._

All in half a second he sent the dark blue mug flying over the counter and smashing into bits at the bottom of the wall just next to the main door.

_How bout your father?_

_That is resolved, Renee_

                He shifted illogically on the spot for a moment then suddenly crouched down low into a squat squeezing his head in between his hands, groaning in his chest.

                _Until next Christmas…when you visit the wall._

                He had already closed this chapter. He had sealed the coffin himself, and diligently said his goodbyes and burying it deep into that large marble edifice. Only once, maybe twice a year did he revisit the memory of that painful wound, but only to renew his vows, to remind himself that this was piece of his life now dead to himself, nothing but a tiny scar in his heart. It had bound him in invisible chains for nearly two decades, and now, now that he was finally free from it, how dare it return to threatened him once more! Harm scrambled up from the floor and headed towards his room. The feeling he had was strange, he was walking calmly on the outside but inside his internal rhythm was frantic and scared, like the scared little boy who waited for news on his father so many years ago. 

_It's like I'm not driving the bus anymore. I'm sitting in the back and I have no idea where it's going._

                His hand immediately made a move for the plastic knob on the nightstand, yanking the wooden drawer open, and sending its contents sliding around within the container. Yet, somehow he hadn't completely pulled it out of place; half of it was still securely in its housing, but from top in, one could make out a small buckle peering out at him, the rest of it shrouded in shadows. He kept his left hand on the knob, unmoving, staring back at it as though he feared to pick it up, as though he was forbidden to pick it up.

_You're still wearing his MIA bracelet._

                _Yeah, he whispered in his heart._

_You're not filing away memories, Harm. You'll have those forever._

He slowly shifted the drawer back in its place, and leaned against the backrest of his bed, moving his legs up on the mattress ahead of him. He absently got hold of a pillow and held it tightly to his chest, staring intensely ahead at nothing, feeling _the black rush over him, and at the same time, that longing to have her there with him, holding him to make the fear disappear. But he knew he wasn't allowed, he was forbidden. Her name escaped his lips, making emptiness broaden its borders in his chest when he was faced with the reality that she wasn't there this time._

_                You've come further with me than any other person…I'll never forget that, Mac._

***********

Bane's Office, Central Missions Directive HQ

120m below sea level, East of Kensington Blv 

Exact Location Unknown

                "Excuse me, old friend," Daniel said.

                "Go ahead," Nathan replied. Watching the two exit his office through one of the doors, the many doors, and into one of the private meeting rooms attached, away from all other ears and eyes. He shook his head.

                The door was not completely closed, and through the frosted glass he could still make out the shadowy figures of two people. One stubborn young fowl, and an equally stubborn old horse. The argument was a mixture of English and Chinese and maybe a bit of dialect, he really couldn't decipher that much of the conversation. The pace of words gradually slowed into short curt sentences and then the younger walked back in, cutting through just to exit the upper room through the another door. She stopped briefly to address Nathan,

                "I'm sorry, Yi jiu (Uncle), I…we aren't always…"

                Nathan motioned that he was quite alright, and then advised, "Take a breath."

                She did and tried to smile, to show him that she was composed enough to go back out into the HQ without raising suspicions.

                "Better?" he asked, to which he received a nod before continuing, "Alright, go then…I'll speak with your father."

                Darryl gave a slight bow in respect and took her leave just as her father came back in, the stern look still on his face. When the door was properly shut, he turned Nathan apologetically,

                "jia chou bu ke wai ren yang (A household's dirty linen shouldn't be aired in public)…"

                "I didn't know you considered me an outsider," Nathan remarked with some humour.

                "You know what I mean…" the other frowned as he sat back into his chair.

                "Mmm…" he nodded, still sitting in the chair, pivoting around to face Daniel. He opened his mouth to speak, but then swallowed his words, deciding to let the other speak first.

                "She's too impulsive, inexperienced. She doesn't think enough."

                "That she'll learn…" Nathan answered.

                "I know," Daniel began when he observed Nathan's smirk, "You're going to say she's actually a lot more like me…"

                The smirk turned into a grin, "Now that didn't come from my lips."

                The two laughed a little, "But you were certainly thinking it," and when the laughter had died down, Nathan spoke to him more seriously, "She's trying, Daniel…but she not going to get anywhere trying to change who she is."

                "I don't expect her to…"

                "But she expects her to, and because she thinks she's a disappointment to you."

                "She's not a disappointment to me…"

                "She doesn't have to be, she just has to think she is."

                Daniel considered his words carefully, but threw in a stray remark, "Since when have you become an expert with youth?"

                Nathan smiled, and continued, "Sometimes we try so hard to protect them, we end up clipping their wings, Daniel."

                The other said nothing again, instead stared to the side, at the corner of his table.

                "You're afraid to lose her." Nathan concluded.

                The other glanced back up and then replied, "I've lost her mother, and her brother, and the possibility of losing her, each time she goes on an operation, everyday she works here…its our life, we could lose it anytime, any day, you never know."

                "When did this start getting out of hand?" Nathan asked.

                The other was thoughtful for a while, and then answered, "Recently perhaps…up and down the past few months…then when I sent Eli after Minon…"

                "How long has her training been a problem?"

                "Since Raide maybe…"

                Nathan frowned, "Why didn't you tell me?"

                "I was still coping, it's isolated…I am still coping."

                "I know you, Daniel, I know you cope, there's no man better at the job than you are…but you're human, and that's your daughter…humans are always weaker when it comes to relationships, even if just a bit, and what more now that we're old men. Life is coming to an end and like it or not we have regrets. But you and I can't afford to be driven by even the slightest hint of emotion…everything has greater stakes in our world."

                They were both quiet once more, pondering the issue at hand. Nathan had expected the man, even in all his strength to feel the loss of his family. All in the span of one year, Colleen had passed on, and then Raide and Hope his wife had been killed in action. He remembered that clearly, the leak, and then the capture, and the blatant demand to have the Director in exchange. They knew Daniel would never have been allowed to give himself in exchange, it was a taunt, a mock on their part. Nathan had taken charge of that op in bid to retrieve the two, but they knew in their hearts all that while, that there's was no way Daniel's son was coming back alive. His eyes were already hopeless when Nathan came to give him the report. 

                "Take over her training," Daniel finally said.

                "We will have to make discreet arrangements," Nathan emphasized.

                Emotions were always a dangerous addition, possibly lethal addition to the mix right now. Human ties were deeply valued amongst them, but had to be carefully hidden and monitored as well. In this case, the immense strain Daniel was going through with the loss of his wife and son could disrupt his duties, and with the addition of Darryl's training, Nathan wasn't so sure he could hold it all together and do it well. And the completion of Darryl's training was essential, she was too important to be compromised. They both knew that it would do only so much good for Nathan to take over primary jurisdiction over Darryl's training since her father still had to do much of it. Nevertheless, it would relieve Daniel of some pressure, enough for him to adequately straddle his emotions and deal with the grief of his loss. As much they had always been persistent in the face of seeming impossibilities, Nathan had to admit this season topped the charts of adversity. The problem with trouble was that as hard as they tried to avoid it, the fiend would sometimes come knocking on their door.

                "I'm back," the intercom buzzed.

                Nathan got up from his chair and told the other, "I'll head to my quarters…we'll talk more later."

                Daniel watched him leave through one of the doorways in his office, and then took a controlled breath, steeling himself completely before giving his permission for the other to enter the office. Eli came in shortly, along with the two other operatives that had gone out with him.

"What took you so long?" Daniel asked.

                "Our ride broke down…"

                "Our ride…" Daniel shook his head at the lingo and continued, "Such things shouldn't be happening."

                "I've instructed Burn on the matter."

"Have you checked in all the equipment and debriefed?" 

                "All is done, the full specs have been loaded into the mainframe," Eli replied.

                "You can send them back home then," Daniel instructed.

                Eli spoke to the two in Chinese, giving them reporting times and deadlines, and then they both left the room. He sat down opposite Daniel and asked casually,

                "So what was the retrieval for?"

                "Special favor called in by one of our Australian compatriots, seems they had to pull one of their agents out unexpectedly, and didn't have time to destroy the file."

                "Ahh…I see, and you sent _me out on it?"_

                "I knew you were craving some field time, so I gave you something simple to quench that appetite of yours…something that wouldn't destroy that knee of yours." Daniel got up and poured himself a glass of water.

                Eli raised and eyebrow, "That's it? Hmm…"

                "To get you to be focused, I just have to take away the distraction."

                "I should say thank you then."

                "You're welcome." Daniel took his seat once more, "I may get tied up with a lot more 'executive' concerns over the next few months, so I need you to stand in for the next few months. You'll have complete acting jurisdiction over all operations from level one to three. Levels four to five I'll still like an update here and there, but I'm more or less leaving the decisions to you. Kel will be your no. 2 as expected. That shouldn't be a problem yes?"

                "Not at all," Eli replied.

                "Try not to be so restless, for the next few months you're going to direct most of the show, and you can't do that properly if you're in it…oh yes, I may need to take one of the chief analysts with me when I go about my business, …pick."

                Elijah thought it through, and then said, "Kel is still a little unsteady on his own, but he's comfortable with Reina, so you may want to keep her as his personal aide, they work nicely together. …as for Yi Quan and Darryl… I'd like to keep Yi Quan here. She's been around the longest, and from what I observed she still a step ahead of the rest, it'll be an asset with you gone." 

                The old man nodded, "Done, my duties for the girl are simple anyhow." The he switched topics, "Mark called in…they're going in about…" he looked up at multi-world time display on the wall just next to his desk, "ha. Seven minutes ago…so we'll probably hear more news soon."

                 "shi fu _(mentor), are you sure it's wise…" the younger interceded._

                Daniel acknowledged, understanding his concerns, but replied, "There is a high risk factor involved, but the information is still encoded…the boy is an aviator, he has his head in the clouds, not in an unbreakable computer code…you checked it out, he does not have the means or contacts to disseminate such information."

                Eli couldn't argue with that, but persisted, "I still don't see why we shouldn't just cancel him once we have the information and bring the risk factor down to zero."

                Daniel smiled and shook his head, "We're not in the business of killing unnecessarily, he still has something to offer."

                Elijah had read his stats, high IQ, good scores on his psych evaluation, good record. Typical high flyer, plus his predestined heritage…added bonus.

                "Sometimes I think I trained you too well." The older commented, "But one thing you still must learn – compassion…alright then, be off with you, it's already near six in the morning."

                "I'll rest here," Elijah said as he got out of the chair, "I'd like to wait for the news from Mark."

                "Very well then," the other nodded, "Call me when news comes in, I'll be going out for the morning."

                Elijah nodded back and took his leave. Nathan drank his last mouthful of water and sighed, he pressed the button for the keyboard panel once more, then keyed in some commands before signing out for the morning. He exited the room through the same door Nathan had exited from earlier, taking the disk Darryl had made with him, still pondering the events of the day.

**********

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

0545 ZULU

                Harm pulled into the lot and rounded up his things. His eye glanced into the rear view mirror, taking note of the dark rings encircling them thanks to the 'all night'er'. He briefly saluted the guard at the front entrance and proceeded up to the office. There was a lot of info he needed to pull of the military intranet, and research he needed to gather up, and he wasn't going to have the patience to do it on the mediocre junk back home.

                _Don't do it, Harm. You just concluded 18 years of searching for your father._

                He tried to throw out that voice that kept speaking to him by shaking his head, but it didn't work. He tried other various methods on the way up, but it those didn't work either. The voice just came back again and again, the same familiar voice. So finally he reasoned with her,

_This is just one case Mac, it's hardly an obsession_

                The plan was not to get driven back into that black hole that had ruled the greater part of his life. It wasn't. All he wanted to do was thoroughly look up the facts, and give Bobbi a well informed answer when she dropped by later. It was just that.

_You can walk away any time?_

_Any time._

_How about now?_

He ignored the challenge, and trudged out the elevator. The entire office was dark, quiet. He didn't bother with the main lights, just his own. They would come on promptly at seven anyway. He switched on the computer and began taking out the papers he's brought along, pulling out the highlighted material in particular.

JAG Internal Network.

Enter User ID:_

He keyed in: Harm and then pressed 'enter'.

Please enter your password:_

********* - 'enter'

You are logged on. Welcome Commander Harmon Rabb.

Harm disapproved of the cheesy greeting, and decided to take the extra second to visit the personal preferences menu before getting down to his work; he turned off the greeting function. The he went into the military intranet main page and filled in the clearance page.

Fill in all fields as stated in your military identification card.

Rank: COMMANDER

Name: RABB, HARMON JR.

Official Post: JAG Officer

Security no.: *****************

'Enter'. He waited for a moment.

You are eligible for clearance up to RED level only. Please select which level you require, and key in the relevant access code.

Level: RED

Access Code: ****-****-****-****-***

'Enter'.

Please wait.

Access granted.

You are now logged on.

This line is being monitored and recorded by the United States National Security Agency.

Harm immediately started through the archives searching for relevant material. Red level clearance wouldn't do much good as far as classified information went, but he hoped that he'd at least find something to go on, and if some of that wasn't even red level, than even better, he wouldn't be able to hold on to the information otherwise, much less use it.

The messenger icon at the bottom right hand of the screen began blinking. Harm frowned and glanced at his watch. O657. Who on earth was in the office along with him? He double clicked.

User ID: (Guest) Webb

I told you to stay away! And don't ignore this message!

                "Well what do you know?" Harm mused to himself, and then closed the pop up window to continue with his research. He scrolled down trying to find what he was looking for.

                RRrrriiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnngggg!

                The sudden noise startled him. Harm growled knowing fair well who was on the other line, roughly yanking up the receiver.

                "What?!"

                "I told you to stay out of this case!" Clay's voice came bellowing from the other end.

                "And I didn't say I would!" Harm snapped back, using his right elbow to hold the phone to his ear while he continued with his work.

                "It's for your own good, Harm! And I'm not threatening you! I'm telling you!"

                "Yeah right."

                "Rabb, now you listen to me! You're not going to find what you think you're looking for! That brown envelope is just somebody's sick joke to pull you down the rabbit hole and into wonderland!"

                "If it's just some joke, then what's the harm at looking into it? It'll just turn up nothing anyway, what are you afraid of?"

                "I am not afraid of anything! That photo means squat! Your father is dead! Don't turn this into some crusade…its not going to bring him back!"

                Harm face changed into a mixture of sadness, and his silence told all. Webb groaned audibly, and continued,

                "I'm sorry…Look, Harm, your father has nothing to do with this case, whoever gave you that package just wants you think it does…"

                "And why would he do that?"

                "To send you down the wrong rabbit hole looking for things that don't exist!"

                "Was my father involved with the CIA?" Harm demanded.

                "No!" Webb shouted back in frustration, "You went to Russia! You know what happened! …And anyhow, if that was even remotely possible, what purpose would it serve finding all this out?"

                "Because I need to know!" Harm yelled, "Because I never knew my father all those years! And if he was involved with this then I need to know! So was he, Webb? Was he?? You'll save us both a lot of trouble if you tell me the truth!"

                "No! I told you, no! This has nothing to do with your father!"

                "Sure…" Harm mumbled.

                "I knew you wouldn't believe me," Clayton commented, "But think about it, just stop and think about it. Why would someone give you all this information? And why just one photo of your father…in fact a photo you've seen before! Why?"

                "Maybe there are decent people on this earth."

                "Maybe they're trying to get you on this case and muddle it up so bad you lose! Think about it, you go chasing after ghosts long laid to rest, while they serve Reese up on a silver platter!"

                Clayton's words hit him like a brick, making him stop what he was doing for a moment, but his pride made him resume typing once more.

                "You know what? Forget it." Clay sounded, "Keep searching for your ghost…keep going down that make believe rabbit hole of yours…you can search the database all you want, sooner or later you're going to find that all this rabbit hole does is lead you back to where you were. As far as your father is concerned, you've already solved the case, but if you want to take _this case, you're only going to be putting Reese in jeopardy. You're being driven by emotions, and those emotions are going to get your client axed!"_

"If there's nothing to find, then why the appearance last night? Why the phone call now?"

"Because I actually give a damn!" Clay answered, and then took a breath before concluding, "I said there's nothing to be found…but if you want to keep at this, then I've warned you. Waste the morning looking for your wonderland for all I care! Maybe when you realize there's nothing to be found you'll take my advice and stay off this case. I meant it for your own good."

The line went dead. Harm took the receiver from it place and stared at it briefly before replacing it. Then he stared at the computer screen unmoving.

Advance Search Results: 3005678 matches. 

*********

Nathan's temporary quarters

120m below sea level

Within 780m radius of C.M.D.

Exact Location unknown

                Daniel's cell phone rang. He kept his eyes on Nathan as he picked it up.

                "Hello?"

                "Mark called in. He has the subject in custody, and the location of the laptop."

                "And?"

                "I've sent Yi Quan in for it, I would have gone myself, but I decided to heed your instructions."

                "You should have sent someone else, she only just got in from an op."

                "I trust her…its too important."

                "What's the situation on the other side?"

                "Apparently they only told the other aviators and platoon I/C and 2I/C, all of whom were killed during the hijacking."

                "We have nothing to worry about then."

                "You know my thoughts on it…"

                "What are Mark's intentions?"

                "He said he's in the midst of formulating a game plan, him being the only one to deal with will make things a lot easier for Mark, but right now they've all been confined to recovery quarters while the government conducts their inquiry."

                "Alright then, I don't foresee there being anything else to worry about. Once you've verified that all the information on the laptop has been recovered, check in with me again. Meanwhile go get your rest, you can't run on 'empty'."

                Daniel flipped the cell phone shut and focused solely on Nathan once more, "Don't worry, your godson is more than able to handle such situations, and he gave you his assurance all is going well."

                Nathan nodded, "Yes…however so, this is unfortunate. I have long buried the past, who would have thought it would have come knocking on my door."

                "Did Mark say when he would be arriving back?"

                "Tonight, the Russian system is still easily manipulated…good and bad…in this case good for us. He said he's in the process of working out the kinks, but will be done soon enough. After that whatever else can run on its own."

                "Mmm…" Daniel nodded in acknowledgement, "Perhaps that boy has a lot more potential than I've credited him with."

                "You? Misjudge a person? Is that possible?" the other grinned.

                "Of course!" he said in earnest, and then joked back, "seldom."

                "If none is found then perhaps he is the best candidate…" Nathan commented.

                "Perhaps," Daniel agreed, and quipped another of his idioms, "Sometimes a man has to be made to fit the shoes, not the other way around."

                They continued drinking their tea.

**********

Harm's Office

0745 ZULU

                "Damn it." Harm swore and smacked the keyboard in front of him. He had skipped eleven out of ten of the search results, was at match number one thousand eight hundred and seventy-seven, and he still hadn't turned up anything remotely worth a rat's ass.

                "Maybe there's really nothing to find."

                His head shot up and looked toward the door, shocked at who was standing there.

                "Wh-what are you doing here?" he stammered.

                Mac walked in and closed the door behind her. She was in here civvies; jeans, sweats pulled over, the usual. She had make-up on, to hide the dark rings around her eyes, but he could see through her, even though some color had returned to her cheeks, she hadn't fully recovered yet, he could tell. She sniffed a little.

                "How're you feeling?" Harm asked as she used the crumpled piece of tissue in her hand to dab her nose.

                "I'm better, thanks," she replied, coming to a stop, about a meter from where he was sitting.

                He stared at her, so glad to see her yet so scared. He wanted to be held in her arms in that instant, to tell her all these conflicting feelings he had raging inside, to let her be the one to calm them, but he wouldn't dare, and tried his utter best to conceal the pleading in his eyes.

                "Erm," she began, noticing the way he was staring at her. 

                _What do you see when you look at me that way?_

"Webb told me about what's going on…"

                _Oh, he thought, and immediately his defenses went up. Mac saw it too. __That's the reason you're here, he looked down, swallowing painfully. _

                _I see a desirable woman._

Mac groaned, half pitying him and half feeling utterly frustrated, but she tried not to show it. She looked at the screen he was facing, and commented, "I see his concerns were not unfounded."

                "I guess you agree with him then," he replied, the hint of betrayal lacing his tone. Harm pushed the power button on the computer monitor, switching it off as a stubborn signal for her to back off.

                "Oh no you don't," she warned him, "don't you dare turn this on me…"

                "Hey, you're the one who started this…" he said, getting up from his chair and walking away from her.

                "Stop it!" she moved over and tugged him around to face her, "I came in here to help you!"

                "I don't need your help!" he answered.

                Mac's face fell, and this time Harm groaned. _Suck it up, Marine. Mac let go of his sleeve._

                "You don't understand, Mac…I need to know."

"No, no I do understand! I understand that you've spent your entire life searching for your father. I understand that you've finally managed to lay him to rest! I understand that that part of your life has been resolved and you don't need to go digging it up again!"

"I need to find the truth!" He yelled back, slamming his fist into the metal cabinet behind Mac, she cringed slightly at the show of violence, and then whispered back,

"Not when there's nothing to be found…" she appealed to him, "Webb said there's nothing to find…"

"And you believe him?"

"Yes, I do." Mac replied, "I think he really does give a damn…even if he doesn't admit it. Whoever is playing you is hitting you where it matters…think about it, what does that one photograph of your father have anything to do with any of the other photographs you were given?"

She waited for his answer, and when he gave none, she answered for him, "Nothing…don't do this, don't start this all over again. You could lose everything you've achieved…everything you've gained from closure…"

Harm looked back at her solemnly, "I _have nothing to lose."_

**********

Bobbi's Home

Charleston Park

                Bobbi moaned at the incessant knocking on her front door, rolling herself off the bed and putting on her robe, "Geez, can't I get one morning to sleep in?"

                She slipped on the bedroom slippers, and shuffled downstairs, rubbing her hands together in bid to warm them. She passed the house heater on the way and turned it up some more, and then quickly made her way to the front door when the banging got louder.

                "What!" she belted out as she threw the door open to see who the tyrant was.

                "Webb! Do you have any idea what time it is?! Damn it."

                Bobbi tucked her hands under her arms and turned to walk back into the house. She refused to be the one to ask what he was doing at her doorstep. Clay felt almost uneasy catching her in her present state, hair ruffled and in nothing but her nightgown and robe, so he tried to defend himself, "Its eight in the morning already!"

                "Wrong, it's the first time in maybe a decade that I'm able to take the morning off the sleep in!" she snapped back, putting the water to boil, "Now what do you want?"

                "I need to talk to you about the case…"

                "Coffee or tea, Webb! Coffee or tea!"

                "Uh..OH! Coffee…"

                "How do you expect me to think without caffeine…and like this!" she said referring to her get up. Bobbi took some jar out of the cabinet and placed them on the table, and then she yanked some frozen bagels from the freezer, frowning when she had to handle their coldness. She gruffly threw them into the mini toaster and flipped the switch.

                "So what do you want?"

                "I'll take 'em plain, thanks…"

                "The case, Webb! The case!" Bobbi snapped at him again.

                "Well how was I supposed to know you were talking about that!" he grumbled back before continuing. But before he could get the words out of his mouth, she breezed past him and went back up the stairs.

                "I'm going to wash up…take the bagels out when their done, I don't want them burnt!"

                Clay shook his head. Sometimes she could really make him feel like an idiot.

*********

Harm's Office

JAG Headquarters

Mac swallowed with difficulty. His gazed was intense on her, and she wanted to run out of the room.

"You have Renee…" she managed to utter nearly inaudibly.

_You should hang on to that one, she's good for you._

Harm let out a laugh that was both painful and grudging, and then took his hand off the metal cabinet, bringing it behind hi back and nodding, "Yeah…I guess I do."

Mac slumped back against the filing cabinet and let her head hang in silence as he turned away, not wanting to look at her. She for her part was starting to regret coming, seeing the way he was reacting to her. As much as she understood how he would feel about this sensitive issue being touched, she wished he would be more rational and controlled.

_What about your life? A relationship? A child? Your future after the Navy? Or is that just not as important?_

"Those things are important to me, Mac," Harm broke the silence, almost as though he had read her thoughts, but she made sure not to let him know he had.

"What are you talking about?"

"Family, future…you know, the things you're always grilling me about whenever it comes to my father…"

She sighed and then replied, "I don't always…it was once…okay maybe twice! Harm, I'm telling you this now more than ever, leave it alone. Do it for…I don't know! The Navy! Your future! There are a thousand reasons…your mom! …And Renee…give it up…for her."

Harm turned to look at her, hurt by her unspoken words.

"Like Mic did?"

She looked away from him, but his gaze remained unmoving, on her. He continued, "Mac…I _would give it up…"_

Mac felt the panic button go off in her head once again, he wasn't talking about his father…

"Commander…" AJ's voice came in the same time the door opened. And both snapped out of their revelry, "Mac? What the hell are you doing here?"

She shifted uneasily and then tried to answer, "Er…I dropped in…to round out some unfinished business, Admiral."

AJ crossed his arms and frowned, "The only business you should be having is resting at home!"

"I was just about to leave, sir…" she answered and started inching her way out the door, AJ's eyes following her all the way. Nevertheless, she made an attempt at one last appeal to Harm before heading off, "Think about what I said, please."

AJ shot her a final warning look and she acknowledged quickly, making a hasty retreat.

He turned to Harm who snapped to attention and greeted him, He nodded in reply, "At ease."

"What can I help you with, sir?"

"I heard from the morning watch you came in fifteen minutes to six, Commander?"

"Yes, sir."

"May I ask why?"

"Sir…"

"Wouldn't have anything to do with the case involving Major Kathryn Reese now would it?"

 "Yes, Admiral…but you already knew."

"Yes I did. Rabb." AJ's tone changed to one that was slightly more agitated, "But I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to take it! And I would think you'd have at least the courtesy to check in with me to see how I felt about it before doing anything of any kind!"

"Admiral I haven't agreed…"

"Oh but you're certainly thinking it!" AJ saw that Harm's CPU was switched on and promptly went over to his monitor and switched it back on to reveal his research.

Harm groaned and then tried to explain, "Sir…I was just doing some research…I…"

"Yes, I know…Mr. Webb took the liberty of informing me of you little episode the night before…"

The other frowned in irritation, and AJ switched modes again, "Son, listen to me, there's nothing left to be found about your father, don't go chasing after ghosts long laid to rest."

"Admiral…"

"I know…Bobbi Latham asked you…but you have a choice, and I'm telling you, don't go there."

Harm was quiet for a moment, carefully considering what everyone had been telling him, Webb, Mac, now the Admiral…and suddenly he had to admit much of their words made perfect sense. What could any of this have to do with his father.

"Sir…you think Webb is telling the truth?"

AJ sighed and the answered, "I don't think he's playing us this time…listen, I know this has always been a difficult issue for you…sit down, Harm."

Harm did as he was told and AJ joined him, "I had this file pulled for me, now its confidential material, so I shouldn't be doing this…"

He handed Harm a file, "What is it, sir?"

"…It's your father's service records, including any runs he ever made for the CIA."

A look flashed in Harm's eye, so AJ was quick to add, "Not in the way you think, Commander…your father has never done anything half as deep as you have."

The other sighed in relief that his fears were not for real, "Thank you, sir."

AJ gave him a smile and patted his shoulder heading towards the door. He turned one more time before leaving, "Commander?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If this here gets out…I will kill you."

"I can never repay your kindness, Admiral," Harm assured him.

"If _that gets out…I'll kill you."_

"Yes, sir."

AJ grinned and started out the door once more, "I want that file back personally by 0900."

"Aye aye, Admiral!"

**********

Bobbi's Home

Charleston Park

                "Okay…I see what you mean…" Bobbi replied, still chewing the bagel.

                "I'm serious, Bobbi, he's self combusting!" Clay told her.

                "I know! You've said that for the third time!" she frowned, "I'll talk to him! …But you are making me wonder…"

                "About what?"

                "Why you're trying so hard to help him…maybe too hard…"

                "There's nothing to find, Bobbi…"

                "Yeah…sure there isn't. So it wouldn't matter that much if he took the case…"

                "Bobbi!"

                "Alright!" she got up and headed towards the toaster to shoved some more bagels in, "You want another one?"

                "No thanks."

                Bobbi opened the refrigerator door and pulled out some vitamins before heading back to the counter, swallowing them with her coffee.

                "Does that even help?"

                "You'll be surprised," she mumbled back, "Now in the event Harm doesn't take the case, who's next in line? I don't see any being able to match except Mac maybe…but you know…"

                "Chegwidden."

                "Well, that could work, but would he?"

                "To save his people, yeah he would."

                "You think he cares that much…"

                "Certain."

                "Fine…I'd be disappointed but fine. But like I said…I leave it to Harm to decide."

                "I was afraid of that…" Clay sighed, "so I took out extra insurance."

                "You what?" She demanded.

                "Hey, I made it clear from the start I was going to do my best to dissuade him!"

                "What did you do??"

                "I just gave him a file of his father's service records, as well as any dealings he had with the CIA… hopefully it'll be enough to pacify him so that even if he takes the case he won't go looking in the wrong direction and lose."

                "You underestimate his commitment to his clients…"

                "You underestimate his devotion to his father."

                "Is there a reason to be concerned about his father?"

                "There is no reason to be concerned about his father, Bobbi."

                They held an antagonistic glare as they finished up the coffee. Bobbi promptly got up to grab her hot bagels from the toaster, wrapping them in two layers of serviettes before starting towards the front door, grabbing her things along the way.

                "Which makes me wonder what big secret you're trying to hide."

                He shook his head and followed her out to the car.

*********

Nathan's temporary quarters

Exact Location unknown

Nathan shifted uneasily in his sleep, his head jerking from side to side, immersed in the recollections of his subconscious mind.

He couldn't hear the firing, but bodies falling around all over the place. He watched, his expression unmoving and seemingly cold. He spoke into the mike, carefully observing the progress.

_"Operations, this is Alpha one, we have neutralized sectors four and five."_

_"Set your charges Alpha one," he replied._

_"Affirmative."_

_"Team two move in, your route is clear…subjects are located in Sector 3 grid 5."_

_"Roger that, Operations."_

_"Lay low, I repeat lay low. Do not compromise the subjects."_

_Suddenly there was gunfire over the comm., and he didn't have to ear the report to have guess what had happened._

_"Operations this is Alpha one, we have been discovered, I repeat we have been discovered!"_

_"All teams have clearance to open fire, directive 3-02 granted!"_

_"Alpha two, bring me back our people!"_

_"Affirmative, Operations…move out! We have permission to neutralize our sector!"_

_Nathan observed the screen in silence. After all these years, observing this blood shed had given him more steel each time, but it didn't mean every face that stared back at him from the screen was eternally branded into his mind and a memorial. He always felt that tiny bit of nausea when he watched such frantic scenes._

_"Operations we have one man down, I repeat, one man down! I have to leave him, sir!"_

_He didn't have half a second to think it through. If they neutralized the entire contact zone they could come back for the one down, but if they had to pull them out, he'd be left behind, "Stay on target! Come back for him once primary target is retrieved!"_

_"Roger that, Operations…"_

_Gunfire…more of it, Nathan would only allow himself to blink. The sound of people dying…_

Rrrrrrriiiiiinnnnngggg!!!

"uh." Nathan startled back up and groaned, rubbing his eyes. He took a moment to catch his breath before reaching for the handphone just next to his pillow.

"Hello?"

The door to the adjacent room opened with Daniel standing there. Nathan motioned for him to come in.

"No, it's alright. Old man like me doesn't sleep much…" He glanced across the room at Daniel who was settling down in a chair, "Uh-huh…uh-huh…okay, so he's going back for the file at? Nine, alright…that's good. What about your side…all is clear…he accepted he terms? …Well that's to be expected…yes, I'll wait for you at the restaurant…how long? About eight? Alright…I'll have dinner without you then…yes…be safe, Mark."

 He pressed the end call button and sighed.

Daniel observed him and asked, "Another dream?"

"The time I tried to pull Raide and Hope out…" he replied.

Daniel nodded soberly, and then replied, "We knew he wouldn't come back alive…maybe its time I came to terms with that."

"No," Nathan answered, "A person should never have to come to terms with that. Accept that he's gone, that he won't be a part of your life ever again, but don't accept the fact that there was no hope."

The other nodded, "I have spent the last few hours thinking…with you permission, _Oversight," he emphasized with a tinge of humor, "I'd like one week to grieve my wife and son, and his wife…perhaps I may still put my heart in order."_

Nathan approved, "That is a good thing…"

"Mmm…I think its time I faced my demons."

"You have my full support, old friend."

Daniel smiled in gratitude, and then switched gears to the matter at hand, "What did Mark say?"

"All the paper work is clear…he was angry at first to take the terms of our contract…"

                "Who wouldn't be?"

"Mark managed to talk him round…so it's not a problem. He's going to be detained for a bit longer before the scenario checks out. He'll have his standard one month, and then report for his training."

Nathan flipped the sheets aside, and then walked over to the counter top to pour out some plain water.

"You want one?" he asked.

The other shook his head, so Nathan continued, "Well, for one Clayton is still working to turn the tables in our favor, seems like the information I delivered work splendidly according to plan…"

The other acknowledged, "That is good, one less thing to worry about. This is going to be one long op."

"Mmm…we're getting to old for this," Nathan mused.

They both burst into laughter. It didn't look like they'd be getting to sleep anytime soon.

*********

JAG Headquarters

0954 ZULU

                "Come up in about ten minutes…" Bobbi said as she touché up her lipstick in the rear view mirror.

                Clayton raised a brow amused by her, "You're beginning to think like _us."_

She shot him a glare and then got out of the car, "Should I wait if I'm done first?"

Clayton shook his head and she nodded, "I didn't think so…I'll check in with you after I'm done with Harm."

She pushed the car door closed, and started off. She knew she didn't need to leave him the key; he probably already had a copy anyway.

"Remember…" Clay told her through the window that was wound down.

"Yeah." Bobbi grudgingly replied, not looking back when she answered.

Clay watched her hurry off towards the reception area and then opened his handphone, pressing the speed dial button. The phone rang once before it was picked up.

"Yes, sir?"

Clay twisted around to look at the two men in the next row of lots behind his, and continued.

"When I get out remember to come over and lock the car."

"Understood."

"Also, is the next shift on its way?"

"They'll be here in fifteen."

"Good, make sure you properly debrief. I don't want any mishaps whatsoever."

"Don't worry, sir, she'll be well guarded…"

Clayton's lips curved at the cocky kid and then finished, "Wait for me, I'll hitch a ride back with you..." ending the call and continuing his wait. Patient planning and hard work produced results. Personally, it was his preference that Harm stayed out of the case, it would simplify things all around, but on the other hand, even if he eventually took on the case, Clay believed he had done enough to make sure he didn't destroy himself in the process. He liked to maintain a facade in front of them, so as to make his job easier, but they were people he genuinely did care about; AJ, Harm, Mac…the Roberts. There was something different about this group. Despite many believing the military to be all about loyalty and integrity, it wasn't really always all that, but it was with these few, and he liked that.

He checked his watch. About eight minutes had passed. _Just enough, he thought to himself. Bobbi would probably be in Harm's office by now, going through the matter at hand; he could breeze in and out of Chegwidden's office for the file without running into Harm and antagonizing him to his disadvantage. Harm would flip if he knew the file was from him. And enough time for him to speak with Chegwidden further on the case representation. Clay got out of the car, buttoning his blazer button. He signaled to the men in the car to take note of his leaving, and then started towards the JAG building._

**********

Harm's Office

                "Weigh this carefully, Harm…"

                _Mac likes you._

                "I thought you wanted me to take this case..."

                _She'd like to wring my neck._

                "I did, I do…I mean…you know what I mean."

                _I get that feeling a couple times a day, Commander, but it passes._

                "Yeah." Harm nodded.

                Bobbi leaned over the desk, placing her hand over his, "You know you're first a friend and then my poster boy…"

                The other laughed and then replied, "That's a revelation…careful congresswoman, you're treading a fine line here…"

                Bobbi smacked his hand playfully and then leaned back into the chair, "Don't get cocky with me, Harm…if you're not careful I might actually fall for you."

                Harm flashed her a cheeky grin, and then she continued, "But no…I've got my sights on someone else…"

                "Ahh…a target…I wonder who that might be?" he mused.

                "None of your business," Bobbi smiled back, then got back down to business, "You didn't find anything did you?"

                Harm sighed nonchalantly and shook his head, "No I didn't, I guess it's as Webb said, there's nothing to be found. Maybe I just wanted there to be something…something to distract me…"

                "From Mac." Bobbi finished from him.

                He remained silent, so she asked, "Tell me what you want, I'll respect your decision…no arguments, I promise."

                Harm was considered carefully, for once he wasn't certain if he could handle the case well with the tumult of feelings that had been aroused to blur his sights. He wanted to strangle the idiot who had put that photograph in the stack, and he wanted to kill himself for allowing his perimeters to be compromised.

                "What's the plan if I don't take the case?" he enquired.

                "Hopefully Chegwidden will take it willingly…"

                "If not you're going to use divine persuasion…"

                Bobbi smiled and defended herself, "Well, desperate times do call for desperate measures."

                Harm twirled his pen back and forth trying to decide, so Bobbi added, "Maybe you'll want to think about it further. Anyway, you know the demands of the case, a formal inquiry still has to go into the matter, which you will be a part of if you decide to take the case. Because of the magnitude of the case, it will be a month or so before the hearings start…plus…"

He raised an eye brow questioningly.

"This is confidential, Harm…"

He nodded, "I understand."

"An attempt was made on Reeses' life three days ago…"

"I thought her whereabouts were well guarded?"

"Yes, but this involves big fish…"

"You mean top level fish…" he commented, "So meaning if I play my cards wrong there's a possibility it'll destroy my career?"

Bobbi sighed heavily and replied, "Yeah…"

Harm shook his head in disbelief, the stakes were a lot higher than he'd imagined, and Mac's words drilled into his head once again.

_What about your life? A relationship? A child? Your future after the Navy? Or is that just not as important?_

"Webb suspects that a top official is in the business of dealing narcotic and arms with Nyumgong, this could render him with great losses…"

"Geez…people dealing in such things don't just play politics, Bobbi, they'll play blood…aren't you worried?"

"I am, but I'm willing to take the risk…"

"I need to think about this…"

"I understand…take your time with it."

Harm sat in his seat holding Bobbi's gaze…this woman brought politics to a whole different level, he thought to himself. But he knew her intentions were pure, he just didn't know if they were worth giving up everything for, if she was worth risking everything.

_Yeah, I would give her up._

**********

AJ's Office

                AJ handed the file over to Webb, and then reluctantly said, "I'm actually going to thank you, Webb."

                Clayton glanced at him suspiciously and then replied, "No need, it was to my benefit."

                The other narrowed his eyes slyly, but didn't pursue the topic, he knew Clayton would never admit that he valued relationships in anyway. It was a sign of weakness in his line.

                "So, what do you think?"

                "Harm?"

                Clay nodded.

                "I think he knows better than to take the case, but he's a stubborn, and has an ego the size of…heck, I can't find anything to match it. He'll take it just because it's impossible."

                "In a way he's a lot like you…" Clayton mused, getting a glare from AJ.

                "But as I was saying, perhaps he'll be smart enough to leave it alone, if anything for the client's sake."

                "He would if you took it." Clay stated.

                "Ha…I take it that's your reason for being here?" AJ answered.

                "No, I came for this," Clay held Harm's father's records up condescendingly.

                "I could." AJ finally said after giving Clay a long warning look, "But what good would that do him? He'd think I was taking it away because of his father, and then we'd be back to square one…he'll make my life a living hell trying to dig up what's not there. …Who was the asshole that gave him the information anyway?"

                "I can't tell you that."

                "You undercover types and your stupid mind games." AJ commented sourly. But he didn't press for an answer he knew he couldn't get. Either way, it wouldn't do much good, the card was thrown, so all they could do now was work around it. Clay knew as well as he did, the decision didn't lie with them, it was with Mac and how their relationship played out. AJ shook his head at the complexity of matters.

                "I'd better go before I run into him."

                "Do that."

                Clay got up from his seat and began out, but AJ stopped him to ask, "Wait."

                "Yeah?"

"Why him?"

                "He's your best…"

                "Is that the only reason?"

                "You know as well as I do he'll complicate matters…if he does take this, he could win."

                "And if I take it I wouldn't?" he challenged

                "Oh no, you're probably more likely to win, but you know better than to complicate things." Clayton saved himself easily.

                "I'm hoping that's a compliment." AJ was impressed

                Clayton smiled and replied, "It is AJ, but you're running the show up here…" he said looking around referring to the JAG office, "frankly we can't have you running off and things falling apart back here can we? It's a matter of weighing the consequences…Besides, the SecNav would have my neck for putting you on the line…"

                "So I'm confused here," AJ remarked, "which course of action _do_ you support?"

                "That's a good question…" Clay replied, and then turned to take his leave.

**********

Harm's office

                "Look, the inquiry won't be approved till maybe in two weeks time, so there's still time for you to make up your mind…may be you should talk to her before deciding?"

                Harm sighed and then confided, "She actually came to see me this morning, Webb told her about this…"

                "And?"

                "We didn't finish our conversation."

                Bobbi sighed, and gave the same advice she always gave him, "Then maybe you should."

                Harm laughed and then quickly changed the subject back to the matter at hand, "Even I'm going to admit this is going to be a long haul…so why are you in this congresswoman? This is way to big a risk even for you. If it's not the numbers, what is it?"

                Bobbi smiled and answered, "I want to throw dirty laundry out, and I have personal issues with drugs…besides, as far as National Security goes, this is a major compromise which I will not stand for, this will get more money pumped into where it should be. And if I gain favor, it'll mean more money for other things as well…"

                "Like education?"

                "Precisely."

                "You really are sold out for this job aren't you?"

                Bobbi smiled, and continued, "Anyway, I was there when the attempt was made on Reese, she's telling the truth, I've no doubt about that."

                "Mmm…" Harm nodded, "So far her story _does_ check out…only thing now is to determine whether her allegations are true…as it is the CIA is denouncing all ties with her, and it doesn't help that her CO is the one bringing forth the allegations, she's got nothing going for her. There's nothing to prove that she was involved in undercover operations…and if there were records, they'd probably have been destroyed by now. You're sure her testimony is true? It's not just an attempt to make a break for it?"

                "Well, that one remains to be proven, …I check in with Pearl Harbor for her records, I asked for the hardcopy…they told me they had done a transfer of the records onto computer just one week back…apparently the hardcopy has gone missing, and whoever keyed in her record left out significant gaps."

                "Ha…convenient…what happens to Reese till the inquiry?"

                "She remains in custody…I've seen her quarters…it's.._too_ good, but her family has been pushing to see her, as of yet they're not allowing her release until the findings of the inquiry are conclusive and in her favor."

"So I take it the family doesn't know about the incident."

"Not a clue."

"Figures." Harm stated resentfully. He hated dealing with the CIA. The problem with such cases was everything was covered up so well you'd never find anything unless you got some lucky break or they wanted you to find out. This was one case everything was cleaned up good. He wondered whether they'd actually find anything to build a substantial case.

"I can't figure out if we have a case unless I talk to her, but I can't do that useless I've agreed to pursue this case…I'm in a corner, Bobbi."

"I know," she said, sighing frustratedly,  "I've told you about all I know…just sit on it till it's time to decide, alright? Meawhile, I need to get back to the office. I've got an appointment at eleven before _lunch_."

The way she'd said it he knew it was a date, so he asked, "Who?"

"None of your business," she grinned.

"Ah…its Mr. Target…" he mused.

"Look, If you have any more questions just call…" she quickly recovered to a more serious tone, "And Harm, talk to her, you have to consult her before you make this decision, you owe it to her…"

"Oh yeah…" Harm agreed totally.

"Sorry, _both_." Bobbi emphasized when she realized whom he was referring to.

"Okay," he sighed sullenly as he watched her leave.

 Harm cracked his knuckles, considering his options carefully. He had no idea what he was supposed to tell Renee. She'd be so pissed off; he wasn't so sure they were okay after him taking off last night. Then there was Mac…Mac.

_What are you willing to give up to have me in your life?_

Then Harm reasoned that she'd made her choice. Mic would make her happier the he ever could. So what was stopping him from taking the case? What was holding him back from making the choice to go tumbling down this particular rabbit hole?

_Are you in love with him?_

**********

Bane's Office, Central Missions Directive HQ

120m below sea level, East of Kensington Blv 

Exact Location Unknown

Eli leaned back into the chair and observed the HQ going about its business. The job was all he'd ever known, and there was no way he was getting to sleep before the laptop came in, there was just too much at stake. And he marveled at how Bane could be so calm and indifferent about its whereabouts. The knock on his door finally came and he shifted his upper body forward in anticipation.

"jing lai(Come in)."

Yi Quan came in, still in the uniform she had gone back out in. He could tell fatigue was starting to set in, for her as much as for him, but he also credited her for showing no sign of weakness. 

"Is everything there?"

"To the last detail...no problems at all…" she answered, looking almost surprised at that fact, "I check it through twice, myself."

"Just as well, the matter was messy enough to handle. Make sure after you've filed in the report, the laptop is properly disposed off by housekeeping…oversee it yourself."

"zi dao le(I know)."

"After that, take the rest of the day off, we both need it. I'll get Kel and Reina to take over for the rest of the day."

"Is Bane really letting the matter go?"

"Yes," he nodded, "So it's not our place to question his decision…just do as I told you."

Yi Quan nodded, resolved to say no more with regards to the matter, "Oh yes, Webb called in a favor…"

"He still can't bring himself to do it…" Elijah commented understandingly.

"Few can," she replied.

"The package has arrived?" he asked.

"Just in."

"What time?"

"Webb said he'll be here at 2100 hours"

"Alright," Elijah sighed, "that's good for me…I'll come back then only…you may go."

 Yiquan proceeded out the way she'd come as Elijah spoke into the intercom, asking for Kel and Reina to come up, and then patched a quick call to Bane to report the latest news.

**********

Underground Detention Facility

Unknown Location, Washington DC

                "Good morning, ma'am." Kathyrn Reese tried to shift her upper torso forward.

                "Stand down, Major," Bobbi joked with her, and then turned to Clay, "How's it going?"

                He sat in his chair, and idly tossed the photocopied sheet about, "She hasn't seen him before, and this…it's probably not his real face."

                Bobbi took the printed sheet from him and studied it, trying to recall if she'd seen anything that would help. But after a while, she shook her head, "Nope, nothing."

                "Forget it," Clay told her, he wouldn't have left anything for us to work with anyway. How's your talk with Rabb go?"

                Bobbi dragged a second chair over and sat down to convene with the other two, and glanced back at Clayton. He took the cue and motioned for the two guards inside the room to leave them. They did so.

                "I can't tell if he will or will not take the case," she finally said when the coast was clear.

                "Well, that's what it seems on my end too…Chegwidden is leaving the final decision to him, but at least the issue we were concerned about seems resolved, so it shouldn't be a problem."

                "He wanted to talk with you before deciding, but that isn't an option, so we'll just have to wait and see for ourselves…"

                "Either way, no reasons for overdue concern, if he doesn't take it, Admiral Chegwidden will." Clay added.

                Bobbi rolled her eyes at Clay, annoyed that he seemed to be hoping that was the case, but continued to Reese, "What I do need to know Katt…you're sure this whole thing had nothing to do with anything else you haven't told us already?"

                "Yes, ma'am."

                Bobbi looked at Clay who answered, "I can't think of any other explanation for it. But no worries, security is back on line, I've taken every precaution thee is left to take, there'll be no more breeches of any sort…"

                "But, the person who masterminded this was probably high up…you're sure there's no way he'll get another chance?" Reese voiced her concerns, "With all dues respect Mr. Webb, that is not something I'm keen to go through a second time."

                Clay shook his head in return, "Possible, but impossible. The facility is on high alert, no one except maybe the President is getting in without my approval…"

                "You have authority over high end officials?" Reese was quick to point out.

                He studied her carefully, reminding himself that this one was no ordinary marine, she was sharp. He corrected, "Even the president has an accountability board, Major."

                "There's no way we're catching the perp who did this?" Bobbi interrupted his attentions.

                "No," he turned to her, "I'm afraid we've tried everything there is to try, unless some inside intel pops up, there's nothing we can do with regards to that…professional assassins are no joke, either you find them or you don't. The best thing you can do Reese, is nail the people behind all this."

                "Any chance I'll be getting out of this place, sir?"

                "I'm sorry, Major, that won't be possible at the moment…at least till the inquiry. You'll accompany whichever officer is assigned to your case…just make sure the evidence is where you say it is."

                 "No one saw where I concealed it, sir."

                "For your sake I hope so." Clay stated, inciting a response from Reese.

                "Is it sufficient?" Bobbi asked both, in bid to break the impending quarrel about to break out.

                "Well," Clay simmered down and answered for them, "There's a chance parts of the information will be rendered inadmissible by the NSA, that I have little influence over, but hopefully there'll be enough to go on…there's little hope of recovering much else, standard procedure would have wiped out any records if there were any… and on Washington's side, the NSA will denounce any ties oversea ops…but like I said, just prove reasonable doubt, that's hard enough, but enough to turn the tables on them."

Reese was quiet, the futility of the matter seeming to sink in. Bobbi took the cue to let her rest for the moment, and pulled Webb along with her. They proceeded to a private meeting room to have their discussion.

"I've been wondering, won't it be risky to send her off to Myanmar? When she leaves this facility she'll be in danger, no?" Bobbi answered.

"I've made arrangements for that…there's nothing to worry about Bobbi. I'll personally oversee her security myself."

"It's _that_ that worries me…" she remarked, getting an amused look in return, "You're that confident you can keep her alive?" Bobbi raised an eyebrow at him, and then shook her head when he gave her a cocky answer.

"I'm good at my job," Clay's lips curved up, and then he told her, "Look, just worry about the person assigned to the case, I'll worry about everything else."

Bobbi walked around the room a bit and lamented, "Easy for you to say…"

"Being 'not in control' is not such a bad thing, just roll with the flow."

                "Oh I suppose you encounter being 'out of control' very often?" she argued.

                "I cope," he replied coolly, "Look, you have my word, whoever takes this case, I'll do my best to make sure it's not blotched."

                Bobbi glanced round at him and warned him, "Don't make a promise you can't keep."

                "I never do."

                "Ha…I'm sure," she remarked, checking her watch, "Okay, I need to get going…"

                "No lunch?" Webb called out as she hurried out.

                "Sorry," she replied, "Got a date."

                Clayton smiled amusedly, and then signaled to the agent nearby to put a call through to the guys waiting outside in the car.

                "Enjoy yourself, Bobbi," he whispered.

***********

Bud and Harriet's Residence

1507 ZULU

                The car pulled up cleanly next to the sidewalk, and Mic smiled at Mac, "Stay here…"

                "Why? We're already here…" she said quizzically.

                "Just do," he answered as he got out, so she took her hand off the car door in surrender.

                She followed his path from inside the car, wondering what he was planning to do, and then burst out laughing when she finally got it. Mic grinned and pulled open the car door for her, bowing in mock Victorian fashion, stretching out his hand to assist her. She took it and pretended to touched by his sincerity straightening her face.

"Thank you, good sir," she said, and then fell into his arms laughing again.

"Gentlemanly enough for you, luv?" he asked, and she nodded trying to hold in her amusement.

They had been to a play rehearsal that morning, a period drama. Mic had called in a favor with one his colleagues. She had confided in him how as a girl she always loved the way in old English films how the men would never fail to stand when the lady left the table, or not even once forgot to open the door for them, but she didn't mean she expected him to do it, it was a little impractical in this time and age, once in a while maybe, but not all the time. Nevertheless, she appreciated the effort.

"You're crazy…" she commented as they walked up the pathway to the front door. But as they did they heard commotion coming from behind the door, and just as they reached the door to go in, it flew open to reveal Harriet trying pull Harm back. He looked enraged.

"What the?" Mic began. But before he could finish his sentence, Harm had seen him, and broke free from Harriet's grasped and was headed straight towards him, shoving him to the ground.

Mac shot round at Harriet for the explanation, and Harriet frantically explained, "He came over to see you, and when he found out about the drinking, he…"

The other's face went white as she turned to see the two men rolling around on the lawn, Harm attacking and Mic retaliating to defend himself. Mac hurried over to where they were, Harriet close by her side, apologizing for the whole thing.

"Harm…Mic! Stop it…I said stop it now!" Mac yelled at them frantically.

The commotion had caught the attention of the next-door neighbors, and they were no hurrying over.

Harm threw a punch that went right across his cheek, Mic letting out a stifled groan of pain before kicking him back in the stomach to throw him off.

"I have no idea what you're so pissed about mate, But if you don't stop what you're 'doin you're 'goin to be pretty sorry…" Mic warned him.

Harm fumed at the warning and threw himself back at Mic, "Asshole!"

"Just tell me what the hell you're so buggered up about, Harm!" Mic yelled in frustration as the next-door neighbors managed to extricate them from one another with Harm kicking violently.

"I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU GETTING DRUNK!" Harm roughly yanked himself free from the men's grasps, nearly losing his balance and he struggled to catch his breath. He glanced up at Mac, and saw her head fall. Immediately, guilt washed over him for his behavior and he busied himself just a bit by straightening his uniform. Mic looked at him and Mac in realization, and then took unsteady steps towards Mac, holding her shoulders gently,

"I thought you said nothing happened…did I say something to hurt you, Sarah?"

"Leave her alone Brumby!" Harm shouted.

"Shut up, Harm!" Mac yelled back.

Harm was startled by the sudden scolding, but did as he was told. Mic took a couple more breaths before asking again, "Sarah, I don't know what I may have said…but…"

"Mic, don't," Mac told him, "You didn't do anything…"

"Thanks, Jim, I think we can handle it from here," Harriet said to her neighbor and his two sons, "Nicky…Mike." And then she ran quickly back into the house.

"No sweat Harriet…" the neighbor replied, motioning for his two sons to follow him back, "boys."

"Yeah, thanks," Mac added as they left.

Mac glanced at Harm standing some distance away and then examined Mic to check how bad he was hurt, shaking her head in frustration as Harriet emerged back out with some wet towels to let the two men clean up.

"Mic, you think you'll be okay?" she finally asked after he'd spent some time cleaning up.

"Yeah, luv, no sweat…nothing serious," he assured her.

"You think you can make it home by yourself?" she asked.

Mic gave her a look and then argued, "What about our afternoon?"

She sighed and understood his frustration, but tried to assure him, "We'll have many other afternoons, I just need to talk with him for today, to settle all this."

"What about us, luv?" he argued some more, "Don't we have things to settle?"

Mac put her hand on his chest and replied, "No, we don't, nothing happened that night…I'm okay with it…"

"Are you sure? I didn't say anything to hurt you? Coz if I did…" he told her, "I'll just lynch myself right now, Sarah."

"You didn't, " Mac repeated, and then rested her forehead on his, pulling him in to give him a kiss, "You could never hurt me…"

Mic sighed frustratedly, shooting Harm an infuriated glare, and then saying to Mac quietly, "Maybe that's why I worry."

Mac frowned at his last statement, watching him leave, but she decided not to have the last word. He was entitled to be angry, she told herself, and watched him drive off before glowering at Harm once more. She said nothing, which made him feel worse, wishing that she would yell, scream, something. Instead, she turned around and went back into the house.

"I think you should go in…" Harriet said, not knowing whether to chide him for being impulsive, she felt too sorry for him. Harm's eyes met hers, they were sad, so she said nothing more to the matter as he went past her and into the house.

***********

Outside the Pentagon

Washington, DC

                "How about Chinese?" Clay asked as he locked his car door. He was going to head back to work…they hadn't made arrangements to meet.

                Mark emerged from the shadows and remarked, "What? Not going to invite me in?"

                "Sorry," Clay turned to face him, "Russian spies aren't allowed."

                Mark shrugged, "Chinese will do."

                They headed down the sidewalk at a comfortable pace, Mark letting Clay lead the way. Usually they would meet out in the open so blatantly, but with Mark looking like that…Clay snickered at the getup/

                "So I heard you have something for the Congresswoman," Mark couldn't resist pressing the others buttons, but when he got a reply that almost hinted of some sadness, he thought it better to be more serious.

                "I'm just working on her on this whole thing, nothing more. Anyway, she's seeing someone."

                Mark observed the other and replied, "We are allowed to have lives you know?"

                Clay raised a brow and the other and refuted his words soberly, "Yes and I'm sure that's why you and I are still single."

                "I guess it 'cos we know better." Mark concluded.

                "Anyhow," Clay changed the subject, he was never comfortable in such touchy feely situations, "When did you get back?"

                "Just," the other replied, "Managed to settle the paper work earlier than expected…"

                "How'd our new guy take it?"

                "As well as can be expected. How's your side coming along?"

                "As well as can be expected," Clay replied, "the rest will just have to work itself out…we found the guy who put a glitch in you scenario…"

                "Who?" Mark questioned, he had really wanted to get his hands on the idiot who screwed up his _perfect _scenario.

                "That's the problem with you, you're too perfectionist," Clay commented earning an irritated glare from the other, "he was one of the death squad members who MIAed during the Geneva project six years back…"

                Mark calculated backwards and raised an eyebrow, "Youngren?"

                "William Youngren." Clay replied, "I had to send a team of four just to get him…"

                "Did you get anything out of him?"

                "I just had him sent over to Eli…"

                "God help him…" Mark commented, "Still can't do it, huh?"

                Clay stopped at the traffic light and pressed the button, keeping a straight face, "Killing someone in a field operation is one thing…conducting and execution…that's a whole other ball game. I'm not Eli. Anyway, that was how the scenario was planned. If someone tried to kill Reese, I send him to Eli, no questions asked."

                Mark nodded, "How'd you catch him?"

                Clay glanced at the other, and then crossed the road, "I'm good."

                The other shook his head and followed, "White is too well trained, we'll never get anything out of him…even with Eli."

                "He's hasn't been on active status for so long…you never know…especially with Eli…"

                Mark shook his head, "In many ways I'm glad I haven't been trained as he has."

                Clay nodded, "Yeah."

                They continued on, keeping a few moments in silence, as though for the man who was about to lose his life that day. Not that he deserved any less of a result, but even Mark in all the bloodshed he'd seen back in Russia and on ops could stomach what White was going to be put through. First there'd be the torture to get the fellow to talk, which of course he wouldn't. That would go on until the life had been drained from his eyes, then finally he'd be executed. They both shuddered at the thought.

                "So how bout Rabb?" Mark finally found it in himself to break the silence, "Is he going to take it?"

                Clay ran the same factors out in his brain, and eventually came to the same conclusion.

"That's a good question."

**********

Bud and Harriet's

1745 ZULU

Harm stayed on the sofa, the one that wasn't facing the staircase that Mac had gone up. He held the ice pack to his bruised knuckles, looking utterly defeated. Baby AJ sat next to him, looking up at his sorry looking godfather. Mac had gone up to her room to change, but hadn't come down for over an hour now. He was beginning to wonder if she'd ever speak to him again. Harriet kind of pitied him, so she didn't rub salt in the wound as she went about her business. But when he asked about whether he should go up, she promptly told him he would not do so and should jolly well stay downstairs until Mac was good and ready to come down to talk to him. He hadn't bargained for this. All he'd done was drop by for a visit, to see AJ. And then he and Harriet had gotten to talking about Mac, and then he found out about Mic getting drunk and sprouting nonsense. And he just lost it. He was going to go over to Brumby's place to straighten the fellow out, but who would have thought he would have shown up at the front door. And he just lost it. Like something had snapped and he just lost it.

"Unca Hwam…" AJ tugged his sleeve

"Yes, AJ?" he looked down at the solemn looking little one.

"Ywe wook tewible…" the little guy said in earnest.

"That's because your Uncle Harm _did_ do something terrible, AJ."

Mac's stern voice came from behind causing both men to turn. She was standing there looking as angry as she'd ever been.

"Uh-oh, Unca Hwam…I thinks yaw in twable…"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, buddy," Harm told his godson.

Harriet emerged from the kitchen with a bag and quickly picked AJ up, "Come on sweetie, we're going to meet daddy for dinner."

"Yway!" the little one exclaimed, obviously not sensing the gravity of the situation. All hell was about to break loose.

"Sarah," Harriet passed her the keys to the backdoor, "Me and Bud will take AJ out for dinner…give you guys some time to…talk."

"Thanks, Harriet," the other replied.

"No problem honey…" the other squeezed her arm, "Say good bye AJ…"

"Bwai Awnt Sewah…"

"Bye, baby," Mac kissed the top of his forehead and then back off as Harm came over to say his goodbyes. He watched her move away and then straightened out AJ's hair as he usually did, "Goodbye, sailor."

                "Bwai, Unca Hwam" AJ replied as Mac disappeared into the kitchen to get a drink.

                "Don't screw this up, Harm," Harriet whispered to him before disappearing out the door.

Harm settled back down in the sofa, watching Mac go from the kitchen, back up to her room in silence. He could hear her grab some things before finally immerging in her sweats once again. She had a pullover in her hands and she threw it at him, telling him to put it on. It was one of his old academy sweaters that he'd loaned her and never gotten back.

"Put it on," she told him coldly, "We're going out for dinner."

He kept his eyes on her as he took off his uniform blazer and pulled on the gray sweater. Mac took the keys from the coffee turned the other way, heading out the door. He adjusted the sweater and ran after her, closing the door behind him.

**********

Freddy King's Chinese

Five blocks from the Pentagon

                "In other words you think his decision rides of Sarah?" Mark asked.

                They had ordered quite a bit. Soya Sauce noodles, sweet and sour chicken, fried broccoli, prawn dumplings, and soup. Some sort of melon thing, Mark liked it. Clay knew the owner of the store, apparently this Nam veteran who was crazy about Chinese and decided to turn his craze into a business. But it was good stuff.

                "Well, you should know," Clay answered, "You were the one quite smitten by her in Chechnya."

                Mark was enjoying his dinner too much to bother arguing back, so he went along, "Ha, the women we pick ay?" bringing his beer up for a corny toast.

                "To the women we pick," Clay agreed.

                "Anyway, seriously now," Mark said, "do you think she'll really go through with it?"

                "Okay…" Clay studied him weirdly, "Are we being serious here?"

                The other frowned and clarified his question, "I'm talking about if she doesn't marry the Aussie, Rabb won't take the case!"

                "I see…" Clay replied unbelieving, but when the other started to look agitated he obliged, "I don't know, it's always hard to tell around those two," he said popping a piece of chicken into his mouth, "Sometimes I think they're just not meant to be…other times I'm not so sure…they haven't been able to get it together so far."

                "Ha…I just don't get how one man like Rabb can keep putting our people on a standstill. First it was Chechnya when we had to send a whole team after one man…now it's this…everything is on hold just waiting for him to make a decision…"

                "You're biased," Clay refuted, "his decisions hinge on Sarah…"

                "I beg to differ," the other argued back.

                "Like I said," Clay said coolly, "you're biased."

                "Idiot."

                "Moron."

                They narrowed their eyes at one another for a moment, and then Mark spoke,

                "Ten bucks says he doesn't take the case…"

                Clay straightened at the challenge, "twenty says he does…"

Mark quickly tired to outdo the other, "Thirty says she ends up with Rabb…"

                "Fifty says she doesn't." Clay added.

                "Fine."

                "I always win…"

                "Like hell you do…"

                "Heh," he snickered, "We'll see."

***********

Near the War Memorial

Washington, DC

                They kept the pace slow and steady, but what was going on inside Harm was far from slow and steady, he was dying just waiting for her to say something. The ride to dinner had been in silence, dinner had been silence, the after-dinner-walk had been in silence. It was just that – silence. The silence was so loud it was all he could hear! Until he couldn't take it anymore...

                "Mac…what the heck is this!" he stopped the walk, reaching out to grab her by the elbow.

                She yanked her arm away and shot back, "Just shut up and follow, Rabb!"

                He let out a frustrated growl, "Is there going to be a point to all this? Coz if you're pissed off why don't you just yell at me instead of walking in silence!"

                "There's definitely more point to you following me in silence than yelling at my fiancé about something you know nothing about!" she jabbed a finger into his shoulder before spinning back around and walking ahead.

                He stood on the spot, stifling the words until they finally came out in an accusation, "He hurt you! He got drunk and hurt you! And you let him!"

                Mac's anger began boiling once more as she retraced her steps, marching right back to where he was, "Now look here, he was drunk! He was sprouting rubbish! I was _not_ affected! And either way how I choose to deal with Mic is none of your business! You made me look like a fool in front of Harriet's neighbors and don't even get me started on the problems you causing just before I'm to be married in two and a half weeks!"

                "I'm sorry…" Harm's gazed dropped to the ground, "I wasn't thinking."

"The problem is you don't think! Why do I have to bother with you before I can get married? Why does any of us have to worry about this at all!"

                Hands that had for the while been flailing about ahead of her in exasperation now dropped back down to her sides, "Forget it, this is not the main reason why we're here…just leave it for now okay?" and she started forward once more, Harm following a few paces behind.

                They crossed a single lane road to the other side, and then cut through a small bit of forestry and came to a clearing. Until now Harm hadn't bothered with where they were heading, all he could think about was how angry Mac was, but presently he recognized the marble edifice easily.

_I just never realized how much of who I am has been shaped by my search of him…_

                "Mac, listen," he tried to explain, "it's resolved…"

_Until next Christmas…when you visit the wall_

                "Is it?" she breezed past him towards the memorial.             

                They walked across the grass towards the steps, "I'm not taking the case because of him…The admiral came to me with my father's service records after you left…I know what happened for sure this time…"

_This is me trying to turn a negative into a positive._

_                "That was what you sad when we got back from Russia the last time…"_

"Well now I'm doubly sure…"

"Really?" she said spinning around to face him just before they reached the steps.

_You can walk away any time?_

_                "Y-yeah," he stammered._

_Any time._

                "Then walk away from this case." Mac stated her terms plainly.

_How about now?_

                "Mac, you're over reacting…" he grumbled, moving past her up the stairs.

                _This is one case. It's hardly an obsession._

                "No, that was you when I came to see you this morning!" she shot back, following after him.

                _You are replacing one obsession with another._

                Harm stopped in front of the black stone, and considered his next opening carefully. She stood next to him awaiting his words, and they finally came,

                "This morning wasn't about my father."

*********

Enroute back to the Pentagon

                "Hurry up," Clay chided him, "You're going to be late…and you're going to make me late."

                "We'll be there in time…hey!" Mark stopped suddenly, pulling Clay back to look in the direction he was looking, "Well 'whadaya know…ha! Eighty paces…one o'clock."

                Clayton used his hands to shield his eyes from the bright street lamp just above, and looked out across the field toward where Mark was pointing. When he finally made out who was there he coolly began aligning himself with the nearby tree, pulling the other along with him. There they were, one Navy Commander and another Marine Colonel, flushed against the backdrop of the black war memorial.

                Mark swatted the back of his hand against Clay and motioned, "Pay up, buddy…"

                "This doesn't prove anything…"

                "Well if it turns out to be nothing, you'll get your fifty back, along with my fifty…" the other argued.

                Clay grudgingly reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of bills, picking out the fifty and reluctantly putting it in the other's hand. He was sure Mark was determined to keep the satisfied look on his face all the way to Daniel Chang's.

                "Come on," Clay told him sorely, "We're going to be late…"

                Mark took a step ahead to follow him, then stopped for a moment to observe the two one more time. He smiled quietly and bade, "Goodbye, Sarah."

                Clay turned to look at him in his melancholy, and then walked back to usher him along, "Come on, Romeo…never look back." 

*********

In front of the War Memorial

She was almost afraid to ask, but forced herself to do so in bid not to show weakness, "Then what was it about?"

Harm glanced at her and then walked a few paces away so that his back was facing her.

"Do you love him?" he said quietly.

"W-what?" she stammered, hoping that she hadn't heard correctly.

_Don't ask._

Harm turned around and asked again, "Do you love him?"

 "Why are you doing this?"

"Just answer the question, Mac!"

"No!"

_Stop asking me!_

"Why not?" he said closing the gap in between them demandingly.

"Because you have no right to ask me that…" she reasoned angrily. Mac had spent the past two days doing everything she could to put things into proper perspective, to put her emotions in check. And now, just when she felt more sure and in control than ever, he was threatening to throw it all out once again.

_What do you want?_

She took a deep breath, and silently told herself to hold her ground, to not back down, to not allow emotions and questions to overtake her. She wouldn't ask, and he wouldn't answer. They would end this here.

_I'm getting married in three weeks._

Harm observed the confusion etched in her face, and decidedly took one step back, realizing he had probably overstepped his boundaries. And he tried the gentler approach, "Mac..."

"Just stop," but she cut him off, "just stop…" pressing her eyes closed to strengthen her resolve, "We can't do this now," she continued, lowering her eyes to the ground.

"But the other night…" Harm persisted, his eyes meeting hers.

_What I want most is never to lose you._

In that moment, the memory of that night came back to mind, and as she looked at the pleading in his eyes, she once again felt the strong pull of wanting to give in to the what she saw in them, to find out what he saw when he looked at her that way, to answer the questions they both had. But she knew better she told herself, and bit her lip to sustain her senses. They couldn't do this to Mic, or to Renee, and she let the part of her that was angry with him take over.

"What was the other night?" Mac questioned him, raising her voice in exasperation, "It was just the replay of old memories long past. Fatigue and mental stress leading to a momentary emotional upheaval. Temporary insanity! Nothing more! …That's all it was, Harm! That's all it can ever be!

"I don't believe that."

"...I was crying for Lylyana, Harm…for Lylyana."

Harm went silent. He wanted to retaliate with his own pain, but pulled back because he could see such tiredness in her eyes, and he couldn't do it. He could never bring himself to hurt her on purpose. Mac saw through him, and was sorry she had snapped at him the way she did. So she pleaded with him gently,

"Think about Renee... …I'll think about Mic."

_I promise, you'll never lose me._

"Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry." They were silent for some more, then Harm turned to face the stone edifice. It seemed almost menacing with the floor lights illuminating it in the darkness. Like it was looming over them to remind them of who they were – military; governed by it a code of conduct and laws that did not give room for the pinning of their hearts. Mac stepped up to stand beside him, and as she did, his head steadily dropped toward the floor to avoid her eyes, in a deep, nearly anguished heaviness. He had always been there for her, and she had always been there for him. Even with the unspoken boundaries they had put in place these few months, nothing could change the fact that their hearts would always be there for one another. Mac nudged him playfully with an elbow, hoping to cheer him up even if just a little, "Hey, flyboy…don't give me that okay? I want you to be happy, and I want you to be happy for me."

I want you to be happy for me. She placed her right hand gently on his cheek trying to ease the feelings away, but he leaned into her touch, and even though he did so just slightly, it felt as though he had seared through her skin, branding her with that small action. The wave of emotion caused her to tense, scarcely able to breathe. A thousand pictures and thoughts racing through her heart melded as one, tearing it up a thousand different ways all in one moment. 

_What do you see when you look at me that way?_

_                Mac./…Harm./ …Do you two know each other?/ …No Sir./ …Yes, Sir./_

_I see a desirable woman./ …And I see a man who's so afraid of losing control._

_Where'd you find this sailor, Sarah?/ …In a rose garden Uncle Matt./_

_They wrote eternity on this bridge…/ …Is that how long we're going to wait?_

_No man is interested in being friends with a woman that looks like you!_

_He knew what he wanted and he went after it_

_Your problem is you let go too easily _

_You pushed me away…what was I supposed to do?_

_Wait./ …For how long?/_

_Sometimes I think it'll last as long as until you decide you want him._

_We're not in Washington…we're not even on the same continent /…Location doesn't change who we are./ Many men would disagree with you./ I know, I disagree with myself sometimes._

_I'm so sick of this dance._

_Harm, are you in love with Mac?_

_You were worried about our professional relationship!_

_Answer the question!_

_This is not a marriage, okay!_

_ That's your MO – running away!_

_Harm, the last thing you need is a third female to complicate your life._

_Your rides' here..._

_Where'd you get three?_

_…Yeah, but its no tomcat._

_Renee…_

_I was always a sucker for dress whites…_

_Me…_

_Red light, Commander!_

_And Mac._

_…Red light?!_

_                I just…I don't know why you had to go to him so fast…_

_Did you expect me to stay single forever?_

_I don't know what I expected…._

_With all due respect Ma'am, they were fighting over you_

_That's why I left, Harm, there is no us! There's you and Renee. Mic gave up the NAVY and his country. Would you sacrifice your girlfriend?_

_We haven't finished talking…/What makes you think we ever will?_

_Hey, you lose control in my world and you die…_

_You don't need that lifeline, let go of it before it becomes a noose._

_You've come further with me than any other person, I'll never forget that, Mac._

_What do you want?/ _

_I want a lot of things…_

Mac pulled away from him, tucking her trembling hand into the coat pocket where it belonged. Reluctantly, Harm let her, his face in mournful regret. He saw in her both pain and anger all at once, and he knew it confused her, as it did him.

"Sarah…" his voice broke, her heart along with his. Mac cursed herself for loving the way he said her name, even when it crushed her as it just had. No one could ever say her name the way he did, making her feel every bit of meaning and emotion he felt right through to her soul and in her bones. And she prayed he wouldn't say more. "What I want most…is you." 

                That was enough.

Mac wanted to hurt him for what he had just done. She wanted to hurt him and want him all at once, and she hated him for doing it to her. For forcing her to acknowledge and admit knowing full well she would have to feel all the pain of the eventual denial, and the agony of its anticipation. "…I didn't ask you…" she stammered, accusing him as the salt water eased through her defenses, pooling in her dark brown eyes. I can't do this now...why did you have to?… 

            "…I didn't ask…" she repeated scooping her face with her hand. _Damn you, Harm. I didn't ask… _

            "…but we always have." He answered, causing Mac to turn away. He tightened his hold on his pants pocket, trying to control himself, but in so doing his face contorted, creased agony and flushing a painful deep red. He walked a couple of paces away to a nearby bench, nearly collapsing into it. He felt helpless, his body aching with a nauseating weakness. It was already about eight in the evening, so the entire sky was now an endless blanket of darkness, with only the florescent white light from the lampposts illuminating the shadows. He felt dizzy, like the world around was mocking and swallowing him over and over into blackness, violently tumbling him through an endless non-existent rabbit hole. There were voices all around folding into one another; the voices of conversations they'd had, of thoughts they had hidden. He willed for them to stop, but they wouldn't. They just got louder and more, crushing and louder and more. Over and over and over again. Then just as it grew deafening, it stopped. 

All he heard in the quiet around, was the sound of Mac standing aside from him, stifling the tears that were running down her cheeks. They couldn't tell who felt more pain, or if they were feeling each other's pain. All around was just a hollow, denying and unfeeling cold touch…its name too multifaceted to ever completely define.

_Do you love him?_

_Do you love Renee?_

_We the jury find the defendants guilty on all counts._

**********

Central Missions Directive HQ

120m below sea level, East of Kensington Blv 

Exact Location Unknown

2032 ZULU

                He felt the cold metal that restrained his hands, and inside he did tremble, but he willed himself not to show weakness. All he saw was pitch black thanks to the visor they had placed over his eyes, and he worried that he wouldn't even see the hands of death reaching out for him, but in actual fact, what he feared most was the prospect that he would never see death, at all, only hope for its coming. He had heard one of the operatives say that the interrogation would begin at 2100, but in the black, there was no sense of time, for mere seconds felt like eternity past.

                It had just been another job, but then again in this life, who could tell which would be his last? Each person knew that someday his time would come. Years ago he had been naïve enough to believe he could leave it all behind, but the truth was, once you have been initiated into the job, you were baptized till death. Once an assassin, always an assassin. He went in with ideals of patriotism, defender of his people, knight of justice. They were all just pretty facades to make him feel like less of a murderer. He always wondered what it would be like, the day he could actually feel his last breath dawning upon him in the distance, was it all they said it was? That life would flash across in an instant? Nope. It definitely was not as divine as that. At least for him it wasn't. All that came to mind were regrets, of love left behind to serve a darker cause, of the child he disowned as youth in moment of folly. Every disservice he had done others, every regret he'd ever chosen in the course of his fleeting life. And thousand ways he would have relived his life had he the chance.

                "Well well…what do we have here?"

The voice was familiar…

"I suppose the days of your existence are just running through your mind right now aren't they?"

He opened his dry and cracked lips to speak out, but nothing came out. He tried again…and only silence greeted him.

"Don't try so hard William, as you know chemical engineering has come a long way since you left the community six years ago…this is just one of our little toys."

                Panic started to rise steadily within him, but he showed little of it. But he did utter up a little prayer, suddenly reminded of a time when his grandmother had taken him to Church one Christmas Eve. He remembered what the Anglican priest had said, just one line he recalled to memory: _Almighty God forgives all those who truly repent…_

                "Oh yes…I'm sure you're wondering if I'm here to put you through a long and painful torture session, but thank goodness for you…"

                _Dear God, I am truly sorry…_he began as he felt the prick of the needle. He didn't make it to _Amen._

***********


	10. Book 1: River Crossings - Chapter 9

Beyond the Rivers of Jordan

Book 1: River Crossings

**_Chapter 9_**

****

JAG Internal Network

Log entry no: 20018777__

"I choose the blue pill. Shut up, Tiner."

User ID: Laurensinger

Mess Room, JAG Headquarters 

Falls Church, VA

0834 ZULU

                Victor held out his mug for the other to pour the coffee. The strong aroma filled his nostrils, beginning his 'wake up' process. His lips curved discreetly, _coffee was improving_. 

"Well done on that scholarship, Tiner," he complimented.

                "Thank you, Gunny…" the other replied.

                "He couldn't have done it without some help," Singer had to put in one of her snide remarks as she came in and gruffly snatched the pot from Tiner to pour herself a cup. Victor glanced up from his cup, deciding not to jump to his defense to see what he would say. He wasn't disappointed.

                "Got stuck with the loser cases again, ma'am?"

                Singer glared back at him and promptly told him to "Shut up, Tiner," – before she swung back out of the mess. _Improving_, Victor commented silently once more.

*********

JAG Headquarters 

Falls Church, VA

                "After all that effort, Mr. Webb…"

Clay scowled, AJ just _had _to rub salt into that wound.

"I found it hard to believe myself," Bobbi commented.

"Although I'm thoroughly, enjoying myself right now," he added, raising his voice, "I can't say it makes up enough to cover for how pissed off I am! Do you have any idea how much this is going to set us back?"

"That's why the SecNav made additional arrangements…" the third replied.

"Additional arrangements? ADDITIONAL ARRANGEMENTS! Why you…"

"Alright!" Bobbi interjected, "take it easy…" she stood to motion an infuriated AJ back into his seat, "Killing him is not going to make life any easier on yourself…"

Clay snickered some more, and Bobbi immediately got to him, "And you! You better shut your trap on those smart ass remarks or _I'm_ going to shut _you_ down!"

Clay shifted in his seat, reluctantly doing as was told. He let AJ continue his belly aching, "We're in over heads in cases needing representation, and you pull a stunt like this…"

"He gave you another man didn't he…"

"A CHAPLAIN!" AJ shouted, "Oh yeah! That absolutely helps! What am I supposed to do with him? Send him to court with 'we are all sinners in the eyes of God' as his grounds for dismissal!"

                "It's still one more man on staff…"

                "I need lawyers, Webb! The man may be upholding the law of God Almighty - God bless him – but I need a man upholding the law of the United States Navy! What good is he going to do a man's defense in the courtroom?!"

                "Hey," Clay shrugged, "Jesus saves."

                "Oh I'm…"

                "Okay! Enough…" Bobbi frowned, glaring at Clay who quickly went silent again, "I would expect you two could behave like mature adults, but that's obviously not working for you…"

                "Gee…" AJ remarked sarcastically, "you don't say?"

Bobbi looked at her watch and heaved, shaking her head_. Ten more minutes. Men._

"Look, it's just for the duration until its decided who's taking the case, you or Harm…" Clay tried to soften AJ up.

"So what made _you_ decide all of the sudden to let us both in on the case?"

"_We_, the Under Secretary of State and I, thought it would be best to get a head start on investigations rather than wait another two and half weeks till its time for the _'inquiry'_…"

AJ raised an eyebrow. He didn't believe it was that simple, there had to be something going on…more than just a game of politics between the US and Myanmar. He had read the case file, apparently Kathryn Reese had evidence of US ties with Myanmar's Minister of Defense General Nyumgong, of the war atrocities kind, as well as the drug trade kind, and she had been leaking this information to a reporter from ZNN named John Sheets. When they checked, they found out that the reporter had MIAed in Myanmar a month back, which fit Reese's cover story, that she was found out by her 'mates' and captured along with Sheets. During their escape attempt he was caught, and she believes, was by now already dead. Reese managed to hide the documents in a 'yet-to-be-disclosed' location and find sanctuary under a rival political faction of Nyumgong's known as the Karan Loyalists Faction, which was under General Pietnam. Now why was this such a high profile case? Kathryn Reese…well on paper, the Military Unit she belonged to known as Tango 5, was just another peace keeping unit under the United States Navy. But in actual fact, it was a special ops unit under CIA jurisdiction, in the business of gathering intel on the Burmese government. Of course, this was denied by the Pentagon. Secondly, Minister of Defense in Myanmar, well that was equivalent to 'King of Myanmar' as far as the Burmese were concerned.

"I've read the file, Webb. Honestly, if her story doesn't check out…if we go over there…and if we _don't fin_d the evidence she claims she has, she doesn't have a case…at all. Period." AJ replied soberly, "And I find it hard to comprehend why you're taking her word for it…especially when she won't disclose the location, or the nature of the evidence she has."

To make matters worse, during the course of her escape, Reese had set off two charges, killing sixteen US soldiers, whose families were now another group added to the already long list of people looking to nail her. So there you had it, the CIA, Nyumgong's lackeys, some unknown fellow or fellows up in Washington, her supposed 'shipmates', the families of those killed in action. All gunning for one lucky enough to have gotten out marine…but AJ seriously doubted she'd have enough luck getting out of this mess.

"It's for her protection, Chegwidden. If she discloses how credible the evidence is, and if we have a mole in our midst, it would give the other side reason to get rid of her…"

"Why do you think there's a mole?" AJ questioned.

"They already tried that…" Bobbi reminded him as well.

Clay glanced at both and replied respectively to AJ, "Precaution…" and to Bobbi, "It would give them reason to try again."

The JAG narrowed his eyes, "Something happened?"

"Nothing serious," the other curtly replied, so AJ played along,

"And the info she has…it may broach the topic of drug trade relations…"

"It might…"

"Ha…and that's why you're in here this morning deciding to put both me and Harm on the line two weeks earlier than necessary?" AJ commented sarcastically.

"It's an important case…"

"No more important than it was the day before…what changed?"

"Nothing changed…"

"Really?"

"I just decided it's best to get a head start on it than waste valuable time waiting to see who is game enough."

AJ and Clay held intense gazes at one another, Bobbi, at both of them. It was going to be a long morning, she thought to herself, looking at her watch once more…_five more minutes. Hurry up and make up your mind, Harm._

*********** Front of JAG Headquarters 

Falls Church, VA

                Harm jerked the corvette slightly when he forgot to press down on the brakes properly at the inspection booth for the usual morning checks. It embarrassed him a little, but he didn't let it bother him very much. He was simply too tired to care. The Corporal stepped up to the car and greeted him, getting only a half-hearted mumble in return. Corporal Bing was from North Dakota, and he had a smashing accent to prove it too. The JAG officers had nicknamed him 'Perky Bing', 'Perky Bing with his m'wighty d'wag ac'ce-nt'. As much as Harm would credit him for his genuinity of service, poor Bing was as raw and clueless as they came, and he had to conclude that the young man would be better served a bear scout. The Corporal after greeting Harm actually went on to enquire as to how the Commander Rabb was feeling on this 'beautiful fine morning'…of which in reward he got a good look of the pretty eyes behind Harm's sunglasses, and a definitely more audible reply, 

                "I'm doing just fine, Bing. But I'll be doing _even better if you get down to finishing those checks of yours."_

                "Y-yes, sir! Sorry, Sir!" Bing hurriedly went about his order of business, running the detector around the car, and in a manner that seemed almost familiar. Harm thought for a second, but just couldn't be bothered go further than that and shifted his shades back into place.

                "Thank you, Corporal, I really appreciate it." He said almost sarcastically

                "No problem, sir… All right! You're clear to go, Commander!" the young man replied as he completed his duties, but of course, not before finishing off with a flashy smile and a chirpy send-off line, "And you have yourself a real nice day, sir!" 

                Harm rolled his eyes at the eager young man and thanked him again as he drove off. As he did a name slipped off his tongue, making him realize who Perky Bing reminded him of: _Tiner. __When he just started out. He smirked sheepishly to himself as he drove down the lane to the car park._

                As he came around toward his parking space, he noticed that Mac's car was already in. A little closer and he saw a pretty marine colonel's head immerging above and walking around to the passengers' side He sighed and then considered driving around the car park one more time just to avoid her, but he quickly chided himself for being childish. _Come on hammer, you're gonna have to get this over with someday. Better sooner.  He ran his hand along the steering wheel thoughtfully, and then took a breath before pushing on the pedal lightly. Mac saw him pull up just behind her car, each taking single quick glances at the other as she engrossed herself with changing her shoes and Harm proceeded to park the rental. Even with the makeup, he could tell Mac's face was a little pale and her eyes tired and sunken. She wore an intense demeanor and frown, no doubt lingering courtesy of their unpleasant trip two nights back. But if he knew her well enough, they had both within two sleepless nights managed to stabilize any heightened emotions they had felt, numbing and hardening enough to function despite the issues' lingering presence. And by now, two nights past, it was nothing but a dead stump in their hearts. Each time they said goodbye they seemed to get better at it. Better at ignoring and snubbing the pain._

He watched her as she slipped on her shoes. The way the uniform wore on her, its lines and curves, the way she steadied herself with one hand as the other reached back in swift motion. His throat became airy, and was painful when he attempted a dry swallow. He felt so aware of the woman she was just watching, and he was fixated, aching with want to be the one to show her that he knew. But he knew, some things in life, were just not meant to be his.

_Got a girl?_

_She's got me._

From the back of her head Mac could feel his lingering gaze on her, burning under her skin. She felt her rib cage tighten and her limbs go limp. She felt vulnerable, almost scared at him looking at her that way. She wasn't sure why. He'd looked at her many times, everyday…but just sometimes, it would be different. 

Mac put her runners in cautiously as Harm wound down the engine and put on his cap, and each closed their car door, reminding themselves to stay poised. When they turned, both were mere inches from one another, in between the narrow strip separating their cars. They tried not to show it, but they were shaking inside again, struggling to hold emotions down so nothing would keep them from doing the right thing.

"Hey." Harm offered.

"Hey yourself." she returned. 

They didn't move, instead avoided looking directly into one another's eyes by randomly looking everywhere else. Their conversation was close to whispers, more so from being too worn out than it was a coconscious effort of keeping their conversation from the ears passers by in the car park.

                "Mac…I was out of line. I didn't mean to...I mean I did, but…"

                "I know," Mac tried to help, if anything so he would say no more than he should.

                "...You know how much I…I value you…" Harm continued, every part of him wanting to say something other than what he finally chose.

_Walking away was the right thing to do. | It wasn't easy._

Although the two looked composed in everyway to anyone who strolled past, it seemed no more than a case of Monday blues, it was getting hard to keep up, and Harm just wanted it to be over. He finally mustered the gull to say, 

"If you want me to…" 

His eyes met hers as he struggled to say the words. He couldn't, so he just hoped she understood what he meant. She always did.

"If you want me to…. …I will."

Harm looked one way while Mac pivoted her entire body the other. Her side faced him so there could be no way their eyes would meet by accident until she was prepared for it. She quickly swiped away the stray tears, using her cold hands to cool her cheeks. Then she sniffed a little, shoving her hands into the trench coat again. Without turning back to look at him, she gave her answer.

                "Yeah…I want you to."

                _Sometimes that's how you help a person the most._

Harm felt like he would have died altogether there and then. It was the expected answer, yet he never anticipated its weight to be so crippling to him. Outwardly all he did was lower his eyes and close them lightly, but inside he felt like everything had fallen apart all over again, the broken pieces of his heart so small they could have been passed through the eye of a needle.

"Are you in love with him?

Mac sighed and gradually shifted to face him, leaning back against the car.

"That's not a question you can ask…."

"Just answer the question, Sarah," he pleaded again.

                For a moment she wanted to raise her voice at him for making this harder on himself, but instead, she obliged with a gentler answer which she knew he couldn't refute. They had come from his very own lips,

"What does love have to do with anything?" 

Mac let out short mournful sigh inside her chest, and then she tried to help him understand, "Harm, we've been here before, and we know exactly where this road ends. …I can't go down this one again. Please don't make me."

                His two feet remained planted where they were, his mind sinking into thoughtful melancholy.

"We just can't seem to get it together, can we?"

  
                "Some things are just not meant to be, Harm."

                "Yeah," he conceded, "…not in this lifetime anyway."

                She saw how sad he looked, and she was going to give him a gentle touch of affection, but she pulled back, remembering where it had gotten them two nights before. Until now she could still feel him in the skin of her palm, his right hand that had found its place over her stomach just a week back, even the long past memory of him on her lips at the engagement party, lingered. In ending, she offered him the little hope in her eyes, and an impossible covenant,

"In another lifetime then." 

As much as sadness still hovered painfully, Harm crushed those words to his heart in despite. For a while Mac thought that he would not reply, and when he began taking two steps away, her heart sank. But then he turned, to give her the answer she had waited for.

He said the words soberly, 

                "Don't make a promise you can't keep."

She paused, looking stunned yet glad that he had remembered, and then sincerely replied,

"I haven't yet."

Only when she had completed the contract, did he give her the smile she had not seen for so long. That in turn made her smile, reminisencent inside. Secretly, she wished things were as they had been, that their friendship was as it used to be. That handsome grin had made her lose all the frustration she felt, and it made her happy just to see him happy. But she knew this was as far as it could go. Let one emotion follow the other and you'd end up drowning yourself. They were doing the right thing. They were. So she took a deep breath, shoulders straightening back as she turned to face another cold, hard stone edifice, letting him follow her quietly just a foot behind.

_Location doesn't change who we are.___

**********

AJ's Office

                "Tiner, get Commander Turner and Lt. Roberts in here now, and make sure Col. Mackenzie and Commander Rabb come straight in once they're here." AJ spoke into the intercom and then turned to the two in front of him, "I pray you know what the hell you're doing…"

                Bobbi cleared her throat and spoke, intentionally, to cut of the beginnings of another argument, "Admiral," she glanced to the side at Clay to silence him, and then continued, "Arrangements have been made for you and Harm to fly out to the USS Lansing, of course you'll be accompanied by myself and Mr. Webb here…"

                "We're not going to see the Major first?" AJ frowned.

                "Unfortunately…" she hesitated, only proceeding when Clay gave her a reluctant nod, "…the Major is recovering from an unexpected breech in security…"

                "And you call that nothing serious!" AJ's frowned deepened as his eyes went wide with disgust at Clay's previous understatement.

                "She's fine, AJ," Bobbi exhaled frustratedly, "But because of what happened the facility is on maximum sercurity…so your clearance to visit the Major will be subject to processing and approval which we cannot get done by this morning…."

                A knock on the door came, interrupting their conversation. Bobbi was grateful.

                "You wanted to see us, Admiral?" Sturgis' voice came, and as he and Bud came in at AJ's permission, he glanced only briefly at Bobbi, who allowed a playful smile to grace her lips. Nobody noticed the two except Clay.

                "Sturgis…you know Congresswoman Latham…this is Mr. Clayton Webb…"

                "Special assistant to the Under Secretary of State…"

                "Yeah and I'm the Dahli Lama."

                Clay rolled his eyes as he shook the other's hand at sat back down grudgingly. _Dahli Lama. Ha_. AJ's lips curved a little in satisfaction and then continued, "Commander, Lt., due to some unforeseen circumstances…there will be a change in the allocation…"

                Another knock came on the door. This time it was Harm and Mac.

                "You wanted to see us, sir?"

                "Ah! Just as well, close the door behind you." AJ studied the two and noticed the haggard look they both seemed to have. Harriet had informed him this morning about the incident on Saturday afternoon, he had no doubt it had everything to do with the demeanor the two now wore, but he carried on as pernormal. He'd have more than enough time to get to them both.

                "As I was saying, due to unforeseen circumstances, there will be changes in the allocation of cases. Thanks to two of our…_endearing compatriots here…Commander Rabb and myself have been assigned to take on the recent complication involving Major Kathryn Reese and the Burmese government."_

                Mac's eyes widened with unbelief and was about to speak out, but AJ shot her a look telling her to be quiet until he had finished, "As of today, Col Mackenzie you will drop the case of the peeping tom, I've already assigned it to Lt. Singer…you will now take Commander Rabb's place on the murder investigation with Commander Sturgis. Sturgis you will now second chair Lt. Roberts on his investigation, you'll be expected to mentor him on the dynamics of his case, it shouldn't be a problem for you, you've done many such cases on your last station…"

                "Yes, sir," Sturgis replied.

                "Now," AJ emphasized, "You may voice any objections you have."

                "Sir," Mac immediately shot out, "I have an objection…"

                AJ rolled his eyeballs, and mumbled only to himself, "I am not surprised, Sarah… " before enquiring, "And what might that be to, Col.?"

                "With all due respect to Commander Rabb, I object to him being on the case involving Reese…"

                "And why might you object to that, Col.?"

                "You know why, Admiral" Mac snapped, shocking everybody else in the room and making them wonder uncomfortably.

                "Excuse me, Col.!" AJ frowned.

                "I…apologise, Admiral," Mac was slapping herself inside, "But…you do know why…"

                AJ observed her a couple of moments, at which she promptly let her eyes fall away to the ground, so she didn't have to answer to his question, or to Harm's look of betrayal. The superior sighed and then redirected his attentions to Harm, "Commander, should I be sharing Col. Mackenzie's concerns?"  

                "No, sir!" Harm promptly answered, his reply one that Mac reacted to.

                "But, sir…"

                "Col., you and everyone else in this room heard the Commander's answer to your doubts…is there any other reason why I should believe other wise that his testimony is true?"

                "Sir…"

                "There is no reason…sir!" Harm cut Mac off.

                Four pair of eyes watched the exchanges taking place between the three, and each had their take on the situation, but said nothing. AJ decided now was not the place for the two to be settling relational issues, so he quickly ended the meeting.

                "Very well then, Commander…you and I will be going out to the USS Lansing at…" he turned to Bobbi and Clay for an answer.

                "We need to leave JAG in ten…" Clay replied.

                "Well, you heard Mr. Webb, will that be a problem?" he turned back to Harm.

                "Not a problem, sir."

"I didn't think so…you'll be briefed on our way to the Lansing. Get your things together and we'll be one our way…as for the rest of you," AJ continued the rest, "you have your orders…dismissed!"

                Harm and Mac managed to exchange looks before snapping to attention with the other two, "Aye aye, Admiral," and proceeding out.

                When the door was properly shut, AJ remarked frustratedly,  "…You've started a flippin' war, Webb!"

                "It's just a case…" Clay argued.

                "He's not talking about the case, you idiot!" Bobbi each to the side and smacked his arm.

                "Ow!" he returned back at her, "I know!"         

***********

Outside Harm's Office

                "Do you??"

                "Do I what?"

"Do you know what you're getting yourself into!" Mac came after him.

                He stopped only briefly when he had to open his door, "What _am I getting myself into?"_

                "I'm talking about the case!" the door opened and she followed him in and smacked his arm with the back of her hand, hard.

                "Ow!" he snapped round annoyedly, "I know!"

                "Then enlighten me, Commander," Mac scowled, "Why the hell are you taking this case?"

                _I thought you said the issue about your father was resolved._

                "You don't want to hear why I'm taking this case!" Harm jerked around and shouted, but just as quickly began kicking himself for doing so. Mac face went slightly pale at his sudden outburst back at her. He seldom ever lost his temper at her, not like this anyway.

                "Wh-what are you…" she mumbled out when he started to lean in closer.

                The door clicked shut behind her.

                "Closing the door," he whispered, and then withdrew his hand from the door knob just behind her.

                There was a long uneasy silence between them before Mac spoke again, "Why are you doing this?"

_                Harm hesitated, and then replied, "I said I would."_

                _I'm walking away._

                "Woah," she exclaimed, but quietly, almost dejectedly, "You're angry with me?"

                _You're replacing one obsession with another._

                "I am not angry with you," he told her soberly.

                "No…no you are…"

                "This is not about you…"

                "That's not what you said two nights ago," she argued back, and then chided herself for the inappropriate implications of her statement.

                "Well what I said two nights ago doesn't really matter anymore now does it?" he whispered out, but communicating every sense of bitterness he felt inside.

                Mac moved half a step back unbelieving, and then lamented, "You honestly resent me."

                "And you have no faith in me," Harm himself took two steps back and slumped back against the table, holding her gaze, "This conversation is heading south really fast…and you don't wanna go there, Mac…" his eyes turned away, "I need to leave in five, why don't you go and let me pack up here."

                She stood there for a moment, not in defiance, but in hurt that he had shut her out. What could she expect after their agreement? It was the obvious step, to put some distance in between one another. Yet now, confronted with the reality and consequence of a contract made mere minutes ago in a parking lot, she felt pain, pain that was not supposed to be there, and she could not muster a planned response. There was no such thing as a planned response when it came to the affairs of a broken heart. So she willed all within herself to turn, everything within not to go back on the contract, and what little that was left to open the door and walk away, or at least to get to the other side of that wooden separator. When she had done so, she kicked in her heels all the way to her own office before she would let any tears fall. His fingertips lightly grazing the door, as though he could touch her form that lay beyond it. And when AJ knocked on the door to call him out, he masked his own pain behind a steady voice, and composed himself as he walked out to face his new obsession.

                 Walking away was the right thing to do. They'd both made that choice together.

**********

About 13 hours later…

Just off the Straits of Malacca

USS Lansing

1745 ZULU

                The helio started going down into the darkness, with nothing but a motley of colored lights below as a guide. They were recognizable enough to the likes of Harm and AJ, vaguely to Clay, but totally foreign to Bobbi. She never liked the Navy's toys, 'overrated tin cans' she called them. The congresswoman shut her eyes, trying to look as though she was tired from the long trip out, but all three men in the passengers' seats knew better, still they marveled at her determination not to show fear. Clay and AJ simply pretended to look out the window when Harm took the initiative to hold her hand. She grasped on tightly, and his eyes widened in surprise at her strong grip.

                She let out a relieved breath when they finally touched down gracefully, quickly pulling herself together in the half a minute when they extricated themselves from the helio and stepped onto the flight deck, greeted by the Captain of the Lansing and his ex-o. 

                "Congresswoman."

                "Captain Warren, this is the JAG himself…"

                "Admiral Chegwidden, it's an honor to have you aboard, sir."

                "Commander Harmon Rabb…and Mr. Clayton Webb, Special Assistant to the Under Secretary of State…"

                "Yeah right…you're joking…" the CO started to grin, but quickly retracted his comment when he realized Bobbi was frowning back at him, "Sorry, Ma'am…Commander, Mr. Webb."

                "Is the General safely on board, Captain? Comfortable?" Bobbi got straight down to business.

                "Yes of course, Congresswoman, …this way please," he ushered them off the flight deck.

                "Any problems at all?" Clay added.

                "No, Mr. Webb, twelve men as agreed; the General, his legal affairs officer, personal advisor, eight man security team…oh, and the cook." Warren replied, "He's been in quarters since arrival at 1100 ZULU."

                "No fuss…tantrums?" Clay enquired, much to AJ and Harm's wonder.

                "Not a bit, Mr. Webb."

                "Ha. Amusing…" Bobbi commented.

                "What's going on…" Harm whispered into her ear, but didn't need to wait for an answer. The door to the General's quarters was opened, and his questions…answered.

**********

Mac's Office

JAG Headquarters

                "Hello, beautiful."

                Mac startled out of her revelry and saw him standing at her door, a bouquet of flowers in one hand, "Hey, what are you doing here so early?"

                Mic laughed and replied, "It's nearly six, Sarah, our reservations for sixty thirty!"

                Mac had to glance at her watch to confirm his assessment of the time, and he was right, it was nearly six, "I'm sorry, must have gotten caught up with work, I'll be packed in a minute."

                "Leave it for a moment, luv," he came over to where she was and politely handed her the flowers, pulling out something from his pocket. It was a deep blue velvet box, not big enough to be a necklace, but not small enough to be a ring…but small enough to hold two rings! Mac's eyes widened in shock when the box opened.

                "What's the matter?" Mic was puzzled by the look that crossed her face for a fleeting moment, "You knew I was picking up the rings today…"

                She smiled back and put her hand on his, "Yeah..."

                "Why don't you try it on to see if it fits…"

                "Er, no." Mac stopped him, snapping the box close lightly, "Later," she told him, "We're going to be late."

                He grinned and nodded, quickly helping her get her things together. Mac breathed a sigh of relief, but she made sure he didn't see it.

                 _Twelve days, twenty one hours and fifty-nine minutes._

**********

General Pietnam's Quarters

USS Lansing, Off the Straits of Malacca

                Seven guards stood around the room, each dressed in the traditional costume of the Burmese people, adapted to fit their job as bodyguards to the General. They stood, unmoving, big men. A conference table had been set up for their meeting, AJ, Harm, Bobbi and Webb on one side, the General, on the other, flanked by his legal officer, who introduced himself as James Shire, and personal advisor, Mr. Roy Puk Nong. The head of his security was introduced only as Captain Punomo, Harm was utterly grateful for that, their names were difficult to pronouce as it was. He observed their behavior, and quickly realized they were much like the Thais in mannerism, their cultural roots if not nearly the same, but of course that was to be expected. The thing that was shocking though, was the General, his choosing probably went against all the rules of sociology, if there were any. It amazed him how superstition in a society could transcend all class barriers and paradigms. Harm listened intently, if not in understanding at the arguments going on in Burmese between Nong and Webb, but e kept his eyes on the general.

                "Something the matter, Commander Rabb?" Pietnam finally spoke up, cocking his eyebrow up with an air of confidence befitting a leader, and that made Harm marvel with unbelief, first at his confidence, and then at the revelation that the General had understood every word of English they had spoken, without the need for his assistants' interpretation.

                "Forgive me, General, " he replied, trying to explain, "It's just that I'm not used to…it came as a surprise…"

                Pietnam turned to Punomo and said something in Burmese, and immediately the other motioned to a guard who moved from his place and across the room to a wine bar. Pietnam continued, "You find it offensive that a twelve year old boy could be commanding his own armed forces?"

                Harm kept a confident approach towards the other and replied, "Surprised yes, but hardly offensive."

                The other smiled and then took out a cigarette, allowing Shire to light it for him. AJ had to consciously tell himself to hold up his mouth to keep from gapping. Then the guard who had gone over to the wine bar came over, with a glass of scotch, and then accidentally tripped over his Captain's feet, breaking the glass. The four American noticed the flash of fear that went through the eyes of all the guards in the room, and then winced when the Captain shouted in Burmese and slapped the other across the face with the back of his hand, so hard that his nose bled. And then all seven guards dropped to their knees to the ground.

                "What's happening?" Bobbi whispered to her right to Webb.

                But before he could answer, Pietnam, did so, "They are begging for mercy, Congresswoman Latham. Or did you not hear I rule my officers with an iron hand?"

                She didn't flinched at his statement, but stared on in defiance, which made him all the more impressed with her, especially since she was a woman, "Women in my country would not dare look at me that way…"

                "Women in my country are quite different from yours, General, just as the laws in my country are as well. And while you are on American soil, it would be best you followed them."

                The General laughed and took another puff of his cigarette, "Get this cleaned up," he said to Punomo, "…and send the rest of them out, I'm quite sure the American's sercurity is more than adequate."

                The other nodded and ordered the rest to get onto their feet and out of the room.

                "You don't approve of me, do you, Congresswoman?"

                "Of your brutality and militant propaganda? No." Bobbi answered bluntly, "Of you? I've yet to see."

                "You don't fear what a spoilt brat like me could do?" he asked and went over to the wine bar by himself.

                Bobbi watched the guard who was clearing up the mess finally hurry out and then said, "Petty quarrels are for children, you and I are mature adults…unless you'd like to prove me wrong?"

                The young boy laughed and nodded, again impressed by the 'woman'. The four of them observed him intently, perhaps more so because of his age. By their standards, a boy of his age and intelligence should be in school, being groomed for a great career in future, but fate had landed him in a place of power and immense responsibility, a place of international controversy. And they were intrigued at how those around him had grown so accustomed to the circumstance that they had little reaction to any of the child's premature dispositions. When they looked at him, all they could see was a boy in a man's job, but when Shire or Nong looked at him, they saw a great leader, or a powerful one at least.

                "You all think I'm a silly little boy playing games…" the General mused and took his seat back at the table.

                "That is hardly the case, General…" Clay tried to insert his own word of diplomacy.

                "Oh shut up, American," the boy brushed him off, much to his offense. The other three however, tried hard not to laugh at their friend's expense.

                "You do," Pietnam asserted, "This is our first meeting, so I'm quite alright with it, though I hope to change that mindset by the time this is over."

                "And how do you intend to do that, General?" AJ smiled back, and Pietnam could tell the older was already starting to be turned.

                He smiled, "People aren't won over by words, their won by actions…I'm sure a man in your position knows that well, Admiral?" when AJ nodded approvingly, he turned to Bobbi as well, "…you too, Congresswoman…if no one else in this room, you and I have the most in common…"

                "And what might that be?" she went along.

                The young boy smiled and replied, "Leaders struggling to be recognized in a world we do not belong…"

Harm continued watching the individuals seated at the table and the exchange between their side and the General. He watched the other three men on the other team remain in their place, in quiet, which seemed almost contentment. He assessed his feelings towards the young leader, how from apprehension in the beginning had so quickly turned into the possibility of acceptance, even liking, and he felt a certain understanding of the other three mens' position towards the young Pietnam. That confidence he had was contagious, addictive even. Humbling even.

But he had to wonder, as did AJ and Bobbi, how a child had been so ruthlessly thrown into the harshness of adulthood so fast so early. 

Clay studied the expressions on the other three, with jaded melancholy inside for what he knew they had to be contemplating. It was something they would never begin to fully comprehend. For when Clay looked at that young man, he saw a part of him, of his childhood staring back at him, a part that he could share with no one, even those who had been through the same. For him and those had been the slaves of circumstance, it would always be a life lived in isolation, within the walls of their own memories.

"Tell me, General," he redirected the conversation, "Why are you so keen to assist the Major?"

The young boy smiled, as did his two 'chaperones'. Clay's lips curved a little as well, he was finally getting the boy's attention, proving he wasn't below his regard. The child replied, "I'm only interested in bringing about justice, Mr. Webb…the Major deserves a fair trial, and then perhaps you Americans will stop sticking your people where they don't belong…my people like our domestic businesses kept…domestic."

AJ studies the signed statement made by the young lad and then raised, "Would you mind General, if we went through your statements more thoroughly?"

"Perhaps a little later?" James Shire spoke up, "the General is weary from the whole morning's shuffling to and fro…"

"It's alright, Mr. Shire…" the lad replied, and then explained when he noticed the wondering expressions, "Mr. Shire was also my private…tutor," and he returned to AJ, "I am quite tired, perhaps you may ask me a few questions to get by for the time being? The full report can wait."

"Yes, of course," AJ replied, and then pulled of his glasses, "In this report, it's stated that Major Kathryn Reese was your head strategist? I was wondering why you would allow an American to hold such a high position…it was as good as inviting trouble was it not?"

Pietnam smiled, "You think I wasn't aware of this, Admiral?"

The four at the table straightened at the revelation, it had been a planned assault on regaining control of Myanmar rulership!

The child smirked quietly and then got up from his seat, "Enough for now, I am tired…Mr. Shire, would you show the gentlemen…and lady, to the door. Roy, yappa mashibayong kab payet."

Nong got up and went ahead to prepare Pietnam's sleeping area, and Shire respectfully ushered them out the door, "Shall we adjourn to my quarters? Perhaps I may answer any other questions you may have…especially those regarding our international policies and possible actions."

The rest nodded and followed him.

"Tell me Mr. Shire, how did a man yourself end up in the General's service?" Clay asked him as they walked on through the ships tight corridors.

Shire glanced up briefly at the other, with a hint of disapproval in his eyes, "You mean in the service of a boy forty five years my younger, Mr. Webb? Well, I assure you, the young man is not as inapt as you would believe, he is quite remarkable really."

"You're English…Mr. Shire?" Bobbi took note of his strong accent.

"Mmm…" the other nodded, "I was actually in her majesty's service for some time, tutor to some of the royal family…in eighty-five I left to pursue personal interests in the Southeast Asian regions…and I settled in Sabah, Malaysia for a time studying some indigenous people residing in the area…when my research had come to an end, around the same time General Pietnam sought me out, less than a year after he set up the Karan Loyalists Faction…and I thought why not? Terms of employment were good…but believe me it took some getting used to when I first learnt of the General's…_unique circumstance."_

"Are you telling me that all this strategic politicking was all masterminded by a twelve year old boy?" Harm asked in disbelief.

"His placement into power was quite a story as fate would have it. But what started of as superstition soon became a reality…the lads' present status speaks for itself, does it not?" Shire answered, his eyes, still ahead, "From what I gather the locals' piety toward him grew…and believe me, the Burmese people are a religiously conscious people. Nyumgong feared that his power would slip…when Peter…Pietnam was five, his village was massacred by a passing platoon of Nyumgong's soldiers…homes were raised to the ground, many died, women were raped. He lost his parents, and his sister, who was four at the time…has never spoken since."

Bobbi gasped in disbelief, and Shire noticed.

"Don't be so shocked Congresswoman, these things are a sad reality of third world countries."

"So the KLF was established as a result of a child's desire for vengeance?" AJ asked.

"What started off with twelve young men has become a dynasty," Shire replied, raising a hand to invite them into his room, and then continued, "It took a tragedy to spark of the KFL, but revenge is not the primary objective…the General wished to bring Myanmar out of her present state of affliction…poverty is a terrible disease."

Bobbi looked up at the man, understanding exactly what he meant. Clay touched the small of her back lightly just a moment, unknown to everyone else in the room, and she shot him a tiny smile in gratitude.

"I find it sad…" she commented, "that one so young need be placed in such a position…the pressure, the responsibility…"

Shire took some glass cups and sat down at the table, pouring drinks round, "Well…we all have a destiny if you will…but before you can get there you need to know its there first, and then journey toward it. Peter, he just saw it…prematurely as fate would have it, and started on his journey earlier than most of us."

"He's twelve!" Harm exclaimed.

"And special young man." The other replied.

"You believe he is the incarnation of a great warrior king?"

Shire smiled back at the question, and answered soberly, "I believe he knew what he wanted, and went after it."

**********

Breek's Restaurant

Near Georgetown

                Mic studied her carefully, and then popped another piece of roast into his mouth, forcing it down with a gulp of wine. He was perturbed. She had hardly said a word since he picked her up, and now she was poking around uninterestedly at her steak. He knew there was something weighing on her mind, and he had his suspicions on what it was. When he called yesterday, all she would say was things with Harm had been resolved, that it was a big misunderstanding. A small part of him wondered though. Had he hurt her when he got drunk? Was she having second thoughts abut the wedding? Was she over Harm?

                "Sarah…" he put down his utensils and reached across to hold her hand. He worried more when she seemed almost startled by his touch, "…if there's something bothering you, you can tell me…"

                Mac willed herself out of her revelry, forcing a smile, "I'm sorry, Mic, my minds' just a little preoccupied with the case, that's all…"

                His eyes feel to the table briefly and then he asked again, "You sure that's it?"

                Mac felt almost sorry for him, but kept up appearances, squeezing his hand and blowing his second question off, "Mic…don't be silly, I'm just having a difficult time figuring out this case I'm working on. I'm sorry, for here end, its just you and me…case is out of my head, completely."

                Mic grinned back at her. She had started smiling, so why mess with a good thing? And they both returned to their meal.

                "Friend I told you about…" he began.

                "…Casser?" she asked.

                "Mmm…he's not going to be able to be the bestman…"

                "Why?"

                "Turns out he's flyin' same day as our 'weddin…couple of hours after…so he won't be around for lunch." Mic explained.

                "I'm sorry, Mic, I know you were looking forward to having him there…" she reached over to hold his hand, and he held on gratefully.

                "It's alright luv, demands of his job…"

                "Mmm….so he won't make the wedding at all?"

                "Oh he'll be there for the ceremony…but he'll have to run off straight after…"

                "So tell him to stand in till then!" Mac told him.

                "That's okay with you?" he shot up intently.

                "Of course it's okay," she laughed, "Why wouldn't it be?"

                "Cos' he was worried you wouldn't like that…him runnin' off like that…"

                "It's perfectly fine, Mic, he'll be like your only family here…"

                Mic's eyes twinkled estatically, almost like a little boy, and she laughed, shaking her head, "Oh, Mic…"

                She was about to pull her hand away to grab her drink, but he held it back, and his face grew serious, "I love you, Sarah Mackenzie."

                Mac let out a sigh and smiled back.

                _Twelve days, twenty one hours and thirteen minutes._

***********

Deck of the USS Lansing

Waters north of New Ireland.

2350 ZULU

                Harm closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of the salty night air. Then he leaned his elbows over the railing and gazed out at the colored lights, the only indication of life in the darkness of the night ocean, the sea ports of the Caroline Islands that the Lansing was passing through. It reminded him ever so much of that night at Sydney Harbor.

                _We're not in Washington…we're not even on the same continent._

                "Location doesn't change who we are…" he whispered back like she was right there in front of him, and then pulled his coat tighter over himself, deciding not to think on the matter further. What if he had risked it that night? What would it be like now? Those questions were best left alone.

                "Couldn't sleep?"

The steel door behind him closed, and he straightened up, "Evening, Admiral…time lag…couldn't get adjusted…"

AJ joined him by the railing, "Neither could I…had to go to the MO for some pills…" he took out a small pack of blue pills from his pocket and waved them in front of Harm.

"They're blue, sir…" the other grinned, "bright blue."

AJ frowned annoyedly and stuck the pills back in his pocket, "Well they're not what you're thinking, Rabb…"

Harm's eyes widened, "Actually I wasn't, sir…Singer's…"

'Oh', AJ mouthed, and then nodded, "I see…the logbook…"

"Yes, sir."

"The Lt. has been upset…" he lamented.

Harm laughed a little and assured him, "No complaints, Admiral…"

AJ laughed too and agreed, "None from me neither…but then on the other hand…"

"Poor Tiner," Harm finished for him.

"Poor Tiner, indeed," AJ smirked.

"But he's been improving, Admiral…" the younger looked at him knowingly.

AJ nodded, understanding what Harm was referring to, his recommendation for Tiner's scholarship. But he chose to ignore it, "It's been a long time since I've slept in a boat."

"One of the perks of being an Admiral, Admiral…" Harm smiled back.

"Mmm..." AJ nodded absently, "So tell me, Commander…what's your take on this case?"

"Messy, sir," Harm immediately responded.

"I agree," AJ replied.

"And the kid…ha!" the other shook his head in disbelief, "…who would have thought?"

AJ laughed, nodding once more, and then was interrupted by a petty officer from behind, "Your drinks, sir…"

"Ah, thank you," AJ took the four bottles from him and let him be on his way. He grinned at Harm's raised brow and handed him two bottles, "Perks of being an Admiral…"

"I can see that, sir."

"Let's take a seat, Harm."

They found a corner of the deck where they could both comfortably settle adjacent to one another, and then got down to their beers. Harm's lips were a little dry from the salt air, so the cold brew was very agreeable to him.

                "Honestly I don't know what to figure about all this…Reese is part of a CIA operation to steal info on the Burmese government? And she went on an undercover espionage in Pietnam's camp…only Pietnam knew, he planned it that way…and then after it's over she goes back to camp and leaks info to Sheets because she wakes up one morning and decides to blow the confidentiality clause on her contract with? And then her platoonmates find out and try to kill her, but she ends up killing some of them, Sheets dies and she runs back to the one place you would think she'd have made the most enemies…and now Pietnam wants to vouch for her instead of stringing her up…and throw in he's a twelve year old kid! …Webb has out done himself this time."

                Harm smiled a little and then replied, "Be grateful Pietnam has turned twelve, Admiral…at least we have a testimony admissible in court. As of now, that kid is the only thing we have in our favor…"

                "But his testimony only proves that Reese was involved in an undercover op in his administration, not that it had anything to do with the US…as of now whatever claims she has made…there's nothing to prove its validity…"

                "Well, she does claim to have evidence stashed her secret location…"

                "Ha," AJ snickered, "And we're supposed to run in with her to find it…if it's not there…we're wasting our time with this…the CIA is not going to acknowledge she was on their pay roll…she's as good as convicted."

                "There _are the documents I was handed, Admiral…if we petition for the CIA records to be disclosed we could have a valid case…maybe enough to prove reasonable doubt, then again the locations shown in the photographs, if they are real, would probably have been covered up by now, and anyone in the area, relocated…"_

                "Just like Boone's case…"

                Harm nodded, taking another swig of his beer, "We've got a hell of a lot of digging to do on this…"              

                "The transcripts won't be any good unless validated…whoever gave them to you didn't give us much to go on…"

                "Couldn't you pull a couple of strings in high places, Admiral?" Harm suggested.

                "Don't you think I would it I could?" the other frowned at him, "Unfortunately, with all the perks I do get, this one is out of my reach…probably out of Latham's league too…"

                "Hopefully after we meet with the Major something substantial will turn up…whatever the Congresswoman and Webb relayed is definitely not enough to go on…"

                "I suppose the bulk of work now is research…"

                "The worst kind..." AJ lamented, "Harm,"

                "Yes, sir?"

                "Its still to be decided which one of us is going to take this case…"

                Harm moistened his lips and replied, "My options, sir?"

                "Well," AJ answered, "there are a couple…obviously we can't both take the case, not at the moment anyway. My first instinct would be to go with Mac as second chair...by the time the either of us returns from the inquiry, she'll have settled down and back to full load…so it's not a problem…but correct me if I'm wrong, that will be a problem for you?" Harm said nothing but looked down, so AJ continued, "I thought so…Bud's not ready, I've yet to see Sturgis' performance…next option is, Singer…ha ha ha…which by your expression I can tell is out of the question…so my last suggestion is this: You'll do bulk of the work and I'll second chair you."

                "The Admiral second chair me?" Harm mused.

                "Either that or Mac, son…you take your pick." AJ smirked.

                "She'll wrong my neck for this one," he laughed and then slumped back against the metal wall dejectedly again, "You know my answer, sir."

                "Mmm…" the older grunted thoughtfully, "Tell me though, you taking this case…does it have anything to do with your father?"

                Harm's eyes fell down to the bottle he had resting on his lap before he replied, "I admit it was at first, but after reading his file…" he shrugged the rest of the sentence.

                "So I have your assurance this is resolved? If you do this there will be no chasing of ghosts?"

                "No ghosts, Admiral…" Harm answered quietly.

                "Harm," AJ told him with some show of affection, "There must come a point when you no longer run every time someone cries wolf, that's when you'll know it's truly resolved."

"I know, sir…and it _is resolved, I honestly believe that…"_

                The older shifted himself to a more comfortable position, and then asked in all seriousness, "Then why are you here?"

                Harm glanced up from his hands at the other, contemplating his query.

_                This is one case, it's hardly an obsession._

_You're replacing one obsession with another._

                He sighed and then replied in a near inaudible whisper, "I suppose I'm replacing one obsession with another…"

                AJ raised an eyebrow, squinting to see his face more carefully in the shadows, waiting for him to explain his statement. Harm registered the look on his face, but simply took another gulp of the beer ignoring his superior.

                "This has nothing to do with your father, does it?" AJ finally spoke at which he got a fleeting glance from Harm once more in response. He continued, "I thought so…"

                AJ picked up the empty beer bottle next to Harm, holding that with the two he had, all in one hand. He raised himself from the floor and inhaled a deep breath of the cool night air, taking his time to enjoy the sound of the sea moving in constant motion, and the lights of the nearby coast line. He decided not to say too much, to allow Harm the opportunity to sort this out himself, so all he would say to the younger before her left, was this,

                "Sometimes you just have to make a choice and move on."

                Harm looked up from the ground at him, squinting at the deck lights that shone straight into his eyes, "You're not talking about the case are you, sir?"

                AJ sighed and answered, "I told you once, to never look back…but you did…always do. That's why you keep coming back to the same place…" he took another step closer, his eyes steady and intense on Harm as he advised him once more, "Figure out what you want. Make a choice. Then stop looking back."

                The other was silent, pondering the true meaning of his words, and while he did, AJ pulled out a pill and chucked it down. Then he resealed the small bag and threw it to Harm.

                Harm caught hold of the small bag and took a moment to examine the small blue pills sitting in his hand, and then look back up at AJ.

                "Your call, Harm," the other told him, and then started back to his cabin.

                "Goodnight, Admiral," Harm called out.

                "Figure out what you want!" he bellowed back as he disappeared through the door.

                Harm tightened his grip on the small bag of pills and stared out into the night reflectively.

                _Walking away was the right thing to do. Never look back._

************


End file.
